Between Dreams
by Shelly-Sells-SheaShells
Summary: Alfred F. Jones is not in over his head. Sure, lately he's been traveling to some weird place whenever he falls asleep, he swears that he's being haunted, and there's some British guy that keeps yelling at him. But he is not in over his head.
1. Chapter 1

Remember how I said I was going to wait till I finished this story before posting it?

I'm such a liar. I'm sorry.

I just knew it was going to take a long time for me to ever post this if I waited till then, especially with everything that's going on right now. I've got college apps, my senior project (which will take up SOO much of my time), a show I'm heavily involved in, AND an exchange trip to Japan that I will be leaving for in a month. So, because I am insane, I decided to get this fic started! If I waited till I finished it, that would be a long time. And the longer I wait, the more likely the fic won't be finished. Especially since this is a lot longer then it was originally going to be.

But what I'm saying is that the best way for this fic to see it to the end (which I really really want it to do and will make it do even if it kills me) is for it to be online NOW. Knowing that people can see it already inspires me to work faster. So here it is! I hope you enjoy~

* * *

Riding the bus home from school, Alfred F. Jones found himself in an internal struggle. He was about to make the most important decision he had ever made in his seventeen years of existence.

What should he wear for Halloween this year?

Currently he was stuck between two choices. After going down an extensive list that he had compiled in the last month, and crossing out costumes for one reason or another, he was left with two awesome ideas.

He could either be a zombie or a cowboy.

Zombies were cool after all! One of Alfred's favorite pastimes was shooting the brains out of the undead that appeared in his video games. But… he would have to wear a ton of make up and spend the whole holiday limping around and moaning (Alfred_ always _stayed in character, he liked taking things to the next level). And that sounded boring.

Now cowboys, _they _were classic. In fact, until recently, Alfred had worn said costume every year. Why the sudden conflict? Well, it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that when he had come to school last year dressed in his best cowboy outfit (which he looked amazing in, of course) he had been ridiculed for, well…

Let's just say he could never watch Brokeback Mountain again without feeling a little bitter.

And zombies were a little more 'in' this year. But Alfred was a hero! He shouldn't care about what others thought of him.

But there was no way in hell he would let his friends call him a 'gay cowboy' again.

"UGGH!" Alfred groaned in frustration, gaining attention from the few others riding the bus. He ignored their stares, turning to the soft-spoken blond sitting besides him.

"Mattiieeee! I can't figure out what to wear!" Alfred whined loud enough for his step-brother to hear through his earphones.

Matthew sighed as he removed one of his earphones, not very surprised that he was being interrupted. He was used to such things by now. "Wear for what?"

"Halloween!" Alfred said, as if it were obvious.

"Halloween? But it's September. Isn't it a little early to be thinking about that?"

"It's never too early to start planning your costume!" Alfred said, flashing his trademark smile before his face fell back into its previously frustrated state. "And I can't decide if I want to be a zombie or a cowboy."

Matthew gave him a look before sighing again. "This is about last year, isn't it? Miguel said he was sorry, eh…"

"Pfft. He only did it 'cause you asked. I still have no idea why you're friends with that jerk. AND-and that's not it at all!" Alfred defended himself loudly, "There's no way that bothers me! I'm way too cool to care what people think! …Besides…everyone knows that Jack and Ennis were _sheepherders_, not cowboys."

"Sure Al." Matthew said, giving up. There was no dealing with his step-brother when he was like this. "Our stop is coming up."

Alfred had been so wrapped up with his costume choices that he had failed to notice how close to home they were. He quickly pulled on the wire that signaled the bus they wanted to leave.

Both he and Matthew grabbed their bags and got out of their seats once the bus had made a proper stop. After the large commotion Alfred had made, most of the bus passengers looked glad to see them leave.

"Al?" Matthew spoke up as they began the short walk towards their home (they really were lucky that the city bus made a stop so close to their house). "Don't worry about the costume thing…Halloween is still a ways away, eh?"

Alfred nodded, only slightly listening to him. Matthew just didn't get it. He had to seriously think about his costume- it could make or break the holiday! Everyone knew you didn't get the good candy if your costume sucked. Duh.

(What are you talking about? Seventeen was not too old to be trick or treating!)

Not to mention that this was his last Halloween before college. So he had to make sure his costume was really awesome. There was no way he would have a Halloween that was anything less then amazing!

It was one of his favorite holidays… right after the Fourth of July (which happened to double as his birthday) and Christmas. And maybe Easter.

But Halloween was definitely up there!

Alfred sighed. Maybe Matthew was right… Maybe he was taking this a little too seriously. He didn't have to choose what to wear right at that moment, he still had a month before he had to make a permanent choice.

It didn't take long before they reached their home, a simple light blue two story house in the suburban area. They had lived there for nearly a decade, when they had moved closer to the east coast. Alfred only barely remembered the time when just he and his dad had lived in Washington, before his dad had met Matthew's mom in some business meeting in Toronto.

Alfred hardly remembered his own mother at all.

That was fine with him. He didn't like thinking about her anyway. Matthew, his dad, and Angela were his family, even if they weren't really blood related.

"Hello boys! How was school?" Angela called from the kitchen as they entered. Alfred could already smell the pot roast she was cooking.

"Hey mom!" Both Alfred and Matthew said as they dropped their bags on the floor. They were both about to head towards their respective rooms when Angela stepped out of the kitchen.

"Hold on you two." She said, stopping them from going any further. She looked tired, her soft wavy hair (which Matthew had inherited) nearly out of it's loose ponytail, and her clothes were mattered with cooking material (making Alfred wonder if she had spilled something again, she was a bit clumsy like that). Though she looked a little worse for wear, she still wore a small genuine smile.

"You'll have to sleep in the same room tonight." She said, earning a surprised shout of "What!" and "Why?".

"Because we have a guest, and he'll be staying in one of your rooms."

"Who?" Alfred asked, not really looking forward to being kicked out of his room for some random visitor.

Angela smiled a bit wider at this. "Your grandfather was able to visit a little early this year."

"Really?" Alfred asked, immediately excited when Angela nodded in confirmation. "Alright!"

Alfred's Gramps was quite possibly the second most awesome person in the world (after him of course). He always brought him and Matthew the coolest stuff whenever he came to visit!

"But it's not December yet…did anything happen?" Matthew asked, slight worry showing on his face.

Shit. That was right. Gramps usually only came in December or November so that he could spend Christmas with them, he hardly ever came to visit this early in the year. Alfred suddenly wondered if Angela's worn out look was caused by something worse than clumsiness.

But Angela calmed any rising fears they had with a wave of her hand. "No, no. Nothing like that. His house is just being fumigated, so he's going to stay with us for a while."

"Alright!" Alfred said, fully relieved. He was so excited about the idea of his grandfather staying over that he didn't notice that his step-mom's reassuring smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

"So whose room is he going to stay in?" Alfred asked, wanting to know if he should clean his room or not.

"It doesn't matter. You can ask him when he gets here." Angela said, looking distracted. She seemed to be focused on something far away, not noticing when a loud popping sound came from the kitchen.

"Mom?" Matthew said, snapping her out of her stupor.

"Oh! I'm sorry. The water must be done boiling...I have to finish dinner, your father will be back from picking grandpa up from the airport soon." She said, running off towards the kitchen and leaving the two of them alone.

"What do you think happened?" Matthew asked quietly, obviously worried. "Something seems off."

"Don't worry Mattie!" Alfred reassured him, "Mom's probably just tired from getting the house ready for Gramps. Come on. Let's help her out and clean up our rooms before he gets here."

Alfred barely ever suggesting to clean up their rooms, but he knew that Matthew would be less worried if he was doing something. And, truthfully, his step-mom's behavior and the sudden unannounced visit gave him an uneasy feeling. But he was willing to push away such feelings in his excitement to see his grandfather again.

After about an hour and a half of cleaning, the tell-tale sign of the garage opening alerted them to their dad's arrival.

"Where's my grandkids?" Gramps' rough and jovial voice called out from downstairs, and both Alfred and Matthew began to head down to meet him.

Alfred arrived first, on account of running the whole way there, and gave his grandfather a tight hug.

"Mmph!" Gramps grunted in surprise before returning the hug. "Alfred, my boy! Look how much you've grown!" He looked surprised to see that he was now shorter then Alfred, even though this had been true for nearly a year now.

"It's only been two months since you've seen me!" Alfred laughed, remembering that his grandfather had said the same exact thing at his last birthday party.

"I know! You kids are growing like weeds these days. And where's Matthew? Oh! There you are! What are you doing hiding in the corner over there? Come and give your old man a hug!"

Matthew, who had been shyly standing to the side, smiled and walked up to give him his own hug.

This always happened whenever Gramps visited. Seeing as Matthew wasn't actually related to him (Gramps was Alfred's grandfather on his mother's side) he always felt that he didn't have a right to be close to him. Alfred knew that part of this was the guilt Matthew felt that his own grandparents (that he often visited in Toronto with his mother) made a point of avoiding both Alfred and his dad.

But Gramps loved Mattie just as much as Alfred, and always made sure to pay just as much attention to him. It made Alfred proud that their family was able to get along so well.

"Is dinner ready?" Dad asked Angela, kissing her on the cheek before she could answer.

She smiled, looking better then a half an hour ago. "Yup. I set up the table for everyone already. I spent all day making this pot roast, so you better enjoy it!" She laughed playfully, lightly punching Dad's shoulder.

The five of them were all hungry and immediately headed towards the dinning table to eat. Even though pot roast wasn't his favorite (That's hamburgers of course!), Alfred ate until his belly felt like it was going to burst.

When everyone had finished, having left nothing behind, Gramps got up from the table and walked over to the bags he had left near the door. Out of them he took four gift wrapped boxes.

"I brought gifts for you all, to thank you for taking me in on such short notice." He said as he walked back to the table.

"Oh dad, you didn't have to do that!" Dad said, looking both genuinely touched and surprised.

"I insist. It's the least I can do." He said as he handed each of them a box.

Alfred's was a small square one that was wrapped in his favorite colors, red, white, and blue (He was patriotic…so sue him! You couldn't really help it when your birthday was on July 4th).

Alfred wondered what his grandfather got him…whatever it was, it had to be good! Gramps always got him the best stuff, in fact, he was the one who gave him his prized bomber jacket (which he hardly ever took off). But even though his curiosity was eating him up, he stopped himself from tearing open the present so he could see what everyone else got.

Angela was the first to open up her gift, and had gotten up from her chair to hug Gramps. She was already wearing the pearl necklace that she had received.

"This is too much. I-I…Thank you." Angela gave him a kiss on the cheek, which Gramps returned.

"Dad, really, I can't believe you did this." Dad said, his eyes wide at his brand new watch.

"Oh shut up and just enjoy the gifts." Gramps laughed, though he was serious. Dad smiled, silently agreeing to stop his protesting as he slipped the new watch onto his wrist.

"There ya go!" Gramps said, turning towards Matthew. "So how's your gift? I saw it on sale the other day, and I remembered that you were from Canada and all that…Thought you might like it… But it's hard to shop for you kids, I never know what you guys want these days." Gramps looked a little nervous about whether or not Matthew would like it, but his worries were quickly put to rest.

Matthew held up the red sweater with a white maple leaf, smiling gratefully. "It's great. Really, thanks." He sounded like he really meant it.

That was it, Alfred couldn't hold it in anymore. He just _had_ to find out what he got! It had to be something totally awesome!

So, without any remaining hesitation, Alfred eagerly ripped open his own present.

And found a ring.

"How do you like it?" Gramps asked, eager to hear his opinion.

"Uh…." Alfred really didn't know what to say. The ring looked nice, and didn't look particularly girly, but it was still a ring! Why did his grandpa give him a piece of jewelry?

"It's a family heirloom. It belonged to my father, and his father, and his father's father, and well. You get it I'm sure. I thought you would like to have it. You always seem to like these old things." Gramps said, seeming to sense his confusion.

A family heirloom! Alfred quickly forgot about the fact that it was jewelry and grabbed the ring to get a closer look.

It was a wide silver band, with no stone, that had black marks carved on it. It was pretty cool looking, and the fact that so many of his ancestors had worn it was pretty awesome too. And it wasn't like girls were only allowed to wear rings.

With that in mind he slipped it on his right hand, happy to find that it was a perfect fit.

"Thanks Gramps!" Alfred said, giving his grandfather a wide and grateful smile.

"I'm glad you liked it. When I found it the other day, well I thought it was about time to pass it down to you." Gramps said, returning his smile.

"Cool!" He thought how his Gramps must have worn the ring when his father gave it to him, and how his father had received it. It made Alfred feel as if he was a part of something, a tradition that had been going on for years. He admired the ring on his hand with new found admiration. Who knew how old it was, or how many of his ancestors had worn it also?

Well, his grandfather probably knew, but he could ask him later. Alfred wanted to imagine the countless possibilities for a little while longer before finding out.

The dinner conversation went back to regular topics after everyone had received there gifts. After finishing dinner, and dessert (ice cream of course!), Alfred and Matthew got ready for bed.

Gramps was going to sleep in Alfred's room, meaning that Alfred had to sleep on an air mattress in Matthew's room. That was cool with him, seeing as it made it easier for the two of them to talk when they played computer games.

"Come on Mattie! He's hiding behind that barrel!" Alfred said, sitting on the mattress and eyes not leaving his laptop's screen. "Hurry up! He's going to kill me!"

They were playing a shooting game with a couple of friends from school, and he and Matthew were on the same team. Miguel and Young Soo were on the opposing team, and at the moment Miguel was shooting him down. Alfred was in a corner, and even though he had weaken Miguel a bit, there was no way he was going to last very long if Matthew didn't show up soon.

When Alfred had just given up all hope, Miguel's avatar fell down. A clear message showed across his screen.

_Maple_Leafe has killed CubanCigar. _

"Got him." Matthew gave a small smile as his avatar jumped from the ledge that he had sniped Miguel from, and together the two of them went to go and kill Yong Soo. He put up a bit of a fight, but they eventually finished him off.

"Alright!" Alfred yelled as their team won for the tenth time that night. "We make such an awesome team, right Mattie?"

Matthew nodded his head, smiling at his step-brothers enthusiasm. "Play again?"

Alfred was about to nod in confirmation when, all of a sudden, the door to Matthew's bedroom opened.

"What are you kids doing, still awake like this?" Gramps said, looking as if he had been just woken up. "It's 12 pm for God's sake!"

"Sorry." Alfred winced guilty. Had his yelling woken him up?

"I know it's Friday, but you won't be able to wake up tomorrow if you don't get to sleep soon." Gramps reprimanded them, and Alfred didn't have the heart to tell them he stayed up this late even during school days.

"Okay." He said, giving in. It was getting late anyways, and he could feel his eyelids grow heavy.

"Good night." Both he and Matthew said as Gramps sleepily walked back to Alfred's room. Matthew got up and turned out the lights, both of them deciding that they would follow Gramps' advice.

After saying goodnight to their friends (not that he considered Miguel his friend, but still), and turning off his laptop, Alfred laid down on his mattress and tried to get to sleep. He turned his new ring around his finger, the action relaxing him a bit, and soon drifted into unconsciousness.

* * *

Alfred was in a narrow alleyway and he couldn't remember how he had gotten there. Where was he? It was neither light nor dark, making it hard to tell what time it was. Alfred was starting to panic, and tried to stop himself. He was a hero! Heroes didn't panic!

Where had he been last? Alfred tried to think, maybe if he could remember he could figure out how he gotten here and where he was.

He remembered playing video games with Matthew, Gramps coming up to yell at them, and going to sleep…Oh!

That was it! He was asleep!

The revelation automatically calmed Alfred down (not that he was scared or anything). If this was a dream, he was perfectly safe. And if he realized that this was a dream that could only mean…

Ohhhh yeah. It was lucid dreaming time!

Okay, what did he want? Well, he was a little hungry, so a hamburger would be just the thing! So Alfred thought, as hard as he could, of a hamburger appearing into his hand.

Nothing happened.

Well that was weird. Maybe it was because it was food? What else could he ask for?

Then it hit him! On the other rare times he had been able to lucid dream, he had flown. He closed his eyes and could just imagine it, his legs lifting off the ground and into the air, everything growing smaller behind.

But when he opened his eyes he was still in the alleyway, his feet flat on the ground.

Why wasn't this working? He was thinking as hard as he could and nothing was happening!

That was how it was supposed to work, right? He was supposed to just think of something and it would happen.

Maybe he just sucked at lucid dreaming.

However, before he could figure out what to do now that he couldn't control anything, a feeling of dread came over him. He had never been one to have a sixth sense, but Alfred couldn't shake the horrible feeling that someone, or something, was behind him.

Time seemed to slow down, and the air seemed to grow heavier. Alfred felt as if his whole body was being pressed against, and it was hard for him to move. But slowly, so slowly that he could have sworn he was moving through honey instead of air, Alfred moved his body inch by inch to look behind him.

He was just about half way turned around when he saw it.

There, almost directly behind him, was a black mass of _something_.

Whatever it was soon formed a crude body, that seemed to stick out in all the wrong places (oh god what was he doing just staring at it but he just couldn't look away-), and a face. The face, if you could call it that, had nothing but a mouth that opened wide to reveal a pair of feral teeth.

And that was the exact moment that Alfred started to run.

"Gh-Gh-GHOOOSSSSTTTT!" The scream tore from his mouth as Alfred was finally able to move, and he began sprinting in the opposite direction of the _thing._

He barely thought about where he was going or why he was able to move regularly again. What little thought he did have was entirely focused on keeping one foot in front of the other.

It was chasing him. Alfred could feel it. Which only made him move his feet faster. And scream louder.

_It's going to catch me and eat me and dump my body somewhere where no one will ever find it and-_

A whole array of images of Alfred's body being maimed and disposed of by the ghost in different and creative ways flashed though his mind. It was so close now, Alfred could swear he felt an icy touch in the back of his neck.

Just when he was so sure that the ghost was about to reach him, Alfred hit a brick wall.

"What the hell!"

Except it wasn't a brick wall at all, Alfred noted as he fell against the cold hard floor, because brick walls didn't yell in British accents.

But Alfred barely had any time to wonder who he had run into, as his mind went right back to the ghost that was still chasing him. With a yelp, Alfred rushed to get up and start running away again.

Okay, so running away wasn't that heroic, but Alfred just couldn't help himself when it came to ghosts. And he had the full intention of grabbing whoever he had run into to help them escape as well (he couldn't let the ghosts get whoever that was, that meant they would win!).

But he never got the chance. Almost as soon as he was able to get on his feet, Alfred felt an ice cold wave of energy rush through him. It felt as if all of his remaining energy had been painfully sucked out of him, and he again collapsed to the ground.

Alfred was able to see a pair of green eyes and a scowl before everything faded to black.

* * *

Tadah! That's the end of Chapter one! Hope you enjoyed it!

Chapter Two will be up next week. My goal is to keep up a weekly update schedule for as long as I can, until I have to leave for Japan in a month or so. Then I won't be able to update the fic for three weeks (I won't have a computer), but that should be the only large break in updates. This story will be moving quickly folks!

I apologize for all the OCs. I couldn't help it, I really don't like changing characters to fit the needs of the story. While some won't be very important, others will be later on (though not as important as our main characters of course!). But we won't see too much of those guys for a while yet. Hopefully the OCs aren't too annoying though...

Next week we will be hearing from Artie! And explain a little more about what's going on. Hope to see you then!


	2. Chapter 2

Hey guys! Look, I kept my promise! Here's the next chapter, and it's not even Sunday yet. I much more proud of myself then I should be.

Anyways, here's the next chapter, in Artie's point of view. Hope you enjoy~

* * *

It had started out as a normal day for Arthur Kirkland. He had fallen out of bed first thing in the morning, gotten dressed, and made breakfast for himself and his younger brother. And, as usual, his brother had complained about the food.

"I don't even think this can count as meat anymore. Why do you even bother with bacon?"

"It's ham."

But Peter ended up eating (most of) the food anyways, though he never did stop his complaints. Arthur just ignored it, as he always did, and reminded himself that Peter had no taste.

Afterward Arthur walked his ungrateful little brother to his school (not that he cared if the brat made it or not) on his way to the university.

His classes went smoothly, if not boringly. Arthur had managed to not forget any important papers at home (which, he admitted, he had done more then once) and was able to turn in the first big essay of the semester on time.

When his all of his classes finished in the afternoon, Arthur left immediately to work at his part time job at the local bookstore.

Luckily, he managed to leave the university without running into that infuriating French 'Exchange' Student who always seemed to make him late.

Exchange Student his ass. Francis had been at the university for longer then he had, and had quickly gotten into the habit of annoying him any chance he got. But Arthur had managed to avoid the frog today (he knew how long that would probably last, but didn't want to think about it until he absolutely had to).

Arthur made it to the bookstore on time for once, thankfully Francis-free, and immediately went to work. He enjoyed his job there. It was calm and relaxing, when he didn't have to deal with annoying customers, and he liked being surrounded by so many books.

Amazingly, Arthur didn't get into any fights with either the customers or his fellow employees. He managed to bite back his temper when he was asked for _the fifth time_ if they sold videos there. He held back the sarcastic reply just dying to come out and gave the customer a polite smile and a "No, we only sell books here". He felt quite proud of himself.

Arthur was already in a good mood by the time he got home. So he was nearly ecstatic when Peter told him he was planning on sleeping over at his friend's house, a young girl named Wy or something like that, who lived in the apartment complex next to them. Arthur had met her a few times, and he often relied on the kid's parent to babysit Peter when he was busy (some Australian man, who Peter seemed to enjoy spending time with), and was perfectly fine with dumping his brother on the family.

For the first time in what felt like ages, Arthur was able to relax, sit back, and read a book before bed.

Yes, things were going great for Arthur Kirkland. For once, he was able to fall asleep with a feeling of peace.

Little did he know that everything was about to go to hell.

At first, Arthur's night started out just as regularly as his day.

When he closed his eyes to go to sleep back in London, he opened them up again to find himself in Abaddon.

It was amazingly, magical really, to be in such a wondrous place while his body was safe inside his apartment. Well, not entirely safe, but Arthur was willing to take a few risks for the chance to visit this place.

Arthur had always been different. Ever since he was a young boy he had been able to see things people didn't believe existed. Ghosts, unicorns, fairies, and spirits were just some of the supernatural creatures he was able to see and speak to. It had seemed so normal when he was a child. But when he told his parents about the 'lovely troll in the park' that he had met, six months of therapy showed him it was not normal, not at all.

After that he never spoke to anyone about the creatures he saw, and kept it a secret inside of himself. That is, until the day he heard about Abaddon.

Arthur had been in his first year of university and was taking an English course in Mythology. It had just been mentioned in passing inside his textbook, but something about it sparked something inside of him. It was like instinct, or rather a sixth sense, had told him to look into it. And Arthur had learned long ago to trust such feelings.

So he had researched. And researched. And then researched some more.

What he had found was a mountain full of information that, although there were some differences, all pointed to the same thing.

There was a place, somewhere not on the psychical plane, that one could travel to in their sleep. This fact was not what amazed Arthur (although it was very impressive in itself). What truly changed everything for him was the fact that it was a place that held all assortments of supernatural creatures and, more importantly, those with magical gifts.

The idea had seemed wonderful. A place filled with not only creatures (some of which could not be found anywhere on Earth) but a place for people like him.

Arthur had always felt isolated because of his gift and, although he did have a few friends (or acquaintances, or enemies if you counted the frog), the idea of being able to talk about his gift with people like himself was irresistible.

He immediately began to look for a way to get to such a place.

Unfortunately, the first things he found had not been positive. Apparently, the main way to get there was to naturally have the power to do so. Very few people were born with the gift to travel to and from Abaddon as they pleased, and it was not a gift one could just receive.

He had almost lost hope, when one day he stumbled across something else. A different way to get in. It turned out that Arthur was far from the fist person to want to travel to Abaddon, but was born without the power to do so. There were a handful of people who figured a way to travel back and forth, by using things called 'relics'.

They were trinkets, usually something small and easy to wear and carry like jewelry. A few wizards had managed to create them and fill them with the energy that allowed a person, as long as they were wearing the relic, to travel to Abaddon while they slept.

It was just what Arthur had been looking for.

Finding a relic proved to be hard work however, and it took him nearly all of freshman year to find and get one for himself. It would have gone faster if Francis, after hearing Arthur drunkenly speak of it on one of their drinking sessions (he swore, he only went with Francis out on those because he was the only one who would bother going with him), hadn't gotten hold of the relic he had his eyes on.

But in the end he was happy with the relic he wore now, a ring with golden marks engraved on it.

And everything had been worth it, he thought, if it meant he could wake up every night in Abaddon, as he had been doing so for a year.

Yes, everything had been going wonderfully routine on that night. And Arthur hoped it would continue to do so.

Arthur changed into his clothes, setting aside the pajamas he had fallen asleep in, knowing that if wouldn't matter what he changed into (he would still awake in the morning in London wearing the same clothes he had fallen asleep in). After choosing to wear simple slacks, a shirt and sweater vest, and a cloak, he exited the small house he had claimed for himself and walked towards the marketplace.

Abaddon was very different to real life, though similar in many ways. One of things that the two worlds had in common was the fact that Arthur still needed money to thrive. But one of differences that could be seen, however, was the way the money was earned.

Back in London, Arthur collected most of his money from his part-time job at the bookstore and the money his brothers (when they remembered) sent him and Peter. Here in Abaddon, he earned that money working as a wizard.

It was undoubtedly one of the perks of the place, and a pleasant surprise. None of the books Arthur researched had told him that staying in Abaddon considerable strengthened one's natural gifts.

Though the books had exaggerated a bit on some accounts. Not everyone in Abaddon had magical gifts (those without usually had something else strengthened like, well, their strength) and those who did have magical gifts usually had gifts that were somewhat different from his own. Some people had empathy, or were able to summon creatures, and so on.

But Arthur didn't mind, in fact, it was almost better this way. He was special here, among other special people. He was still with people who understood his situation, and he could now use his own gifts without being seen as weird. In fact, he was rewarded for it!

While in Abaddon he was now able to perform spells, things that actually affected the area around him in big ways (and not just the flickering of lights, like he was able to achieve back at home).

Arthur's magic was well-known here, and people knew by now where to search out for him in the marketplace to ask for his services. He did a variety of jobs, whatever any one needed really. But most of the time he helped people with protective spells and barriers, or to aid in a battle party to take down whatever creature was bothering the magical city that week.

There were a few other wizards here too, but they were either in a different specialized field of magic, did not sell their services, or were not as well-known. It didn't matter to Arthur either way, it still meant that he was able to further his studies in the occult further while earning money. It was truly wonderful at times.

And other times, it could be utterly annoying. Like now, when he was dealing with customers like Turkey.

"Come on England, I swear! You gotta redo the barriers around my house! There's something sneaking in, I just know it! Probably that no good nosy Greece"

Turkey had approached him as soon as he saw Arthur enter the marketplace. Arthur had barely managed to repress a sigh. It wasn't that Turkey was a bad person- sure he could be a bit aggressive at times, but he was generally a good guy once you got to know him. But latterly, he had become paranoid. So very paranoid.

This was the third time this month that he had asked Arthur to change the protective barriers around his house. Turkey was convinced that there was something trying to get in and hurt him while he was in the real world.

Part of Arthur could understand why he was worried. Just as they were vulnerable in the real world while they slept, they were vulnerable in Abaddon while they were awake. But this generally wasn't a problem as long as you placed barriers around your house (or kept emergency shield charms, in case you awoke unexpectedly while outside the safety of your house).

But Turkey didn't fully trust the barriers, and was again asking for them to be renewed. Arthur wasn't sure if he should feel insulted, or just be grateful for all the money Turkey's requests had been making him.

"I'm begging ya England! There's something wicked coming. I can just feel it. You know I can." Turkey asked again, and Arthur finally relented.

"Fine. But it'll be the same amount as always. Doing a different barrier each time is exhausting you know." Arthur was slightly exaggerating, but it was very frustrating having to redo the spells in a different way every week. He needed some compensation.

Turkey complied, handing him a large bag of coins. "Thanks man, I appreciate it. Can you stop by and take care of it in an hour?"

"Yes, yes. That's fine. I'll need the time to get my materials ready anyways." Arthur said, and Turkey nodded and walked away.

Now with a job and purpose, Arthur headed towards his favorite place for spell materials.

A light chime of a silver bell announced his presence as he stepped inside the small herb shop.

"Japan?" Arthur called out, looking for the small man that was both his friend and the owner of the shop.

"He's…not here." A tired sounding voice came from behind the counter, followed by the mewling of what sounded like a dozen cats.

That was right, it was probably still too early in Tokyo for Japan to be asleep. That was too bad, Arthur had been hoping to talk to the small man. Oh well, he could stop by the shop later to see him.

"Ah, Greece. Nice to see you again. I hope I haven't come at an inconvenient time?" Arthur asked, as a brown head of hair rose from the counter.

"..No…What do you…need?" Greece stood up, cat-like spirits and creatures falling from his lap, and put on his business face (which looked just like his normal face, but with less blinking).

Arthur nodded and began to list the herbs he needed. Although he preferred doing business with Japan (he was much easier to talk to) he didn't mind dealing with Greece, who worked at the shop alongside Japan. He was usually very direct, but he had a bit of a habit of falling asleep (or awakening rather) at the most random times.

But Arthur supposed part of that was a good thing. Because of his on and off naps, there was always a good chance that Greece would be available at the shop. Sure, he was asleep (or awake, depending on your view) some of the time, but at least there was always someone watching the shop.

Arthur got the herbs he needed for the spell, careful not to mention who they were for (the last time he had mentioned Turkey to the man, he had yelled at no one for a good half hour), and paid for them with some of the coins Turkey had given him.

He left the shop without any incident, and headed towards Turkey's house.

The man was waiting for him, and immediately wanted him to get to work. That was fine with Arthur, it meant he could be finished faster and do other things. Like not deal with paranoid men wearing masks.

It took him longer then it should have. When Arthur accidentally let it spill which shop he had gotten the spell herbs from, Turkey went into a long angry rant.

"Greece? You got them from Greece! He probably poisoned them- or-or sabotage them!" And so on.

After hearing "That jerk can't be trusted!" for the eleventh time, Arthur had lost his temper.

"What the hell Turkey? Do you want me to do the bloody spell or not? I'm so goddamn sick of your paranoia. What the hell is wrong with you?"

A small part of Arthur felt bad at yelling at the man, but really, all of this was starting to get on his nerves. There was something wrong with Turkey lately, and Arthur had had enough.

Arthur's yelling seemed to reach Turkey, and he stopped his ranting.

"Ah…Man, I'm sorry. It's just lately...well, I don't... Could you just check the herbs, just in case? I don't want- I just have to be certain, you know?"

Arthur sighed, and did a quick check. The herbs were fine (of course) and when Turkey had still looked unsure, Arthur had mentioned that Japan had been the one to give them to him (it was a lie, but it seemed to reassure Turkey immediately).

Arthur finished the spell quickly after that, and said his goodbyes to the (now much more relaxed) man.

Using the magic hadn't worn him out as much as he thought it would, and Arthur walked back to the marketplace hoping he would be able to get some more work done.

However, no one offered him any more jobs. Which was frustrating, since Arthur needed to save up on coins if he was going to buy some new furniture for his house.

Yes. He needed furniture in a magical world. When Arthur had first arrived in Abaddon he had spent all the money he earned on protective cloaks and other magical items. This, unfortunately, meant that his house was rather bare.

This hadn't been a problem until recently, when Arthur had invited Japan over for a spot of tea (which they both shared an enthusiasm for). Japan's house, which was really just an added section to the shop, was beautifully furnished.

He hadn't thought about it until he realized just how empty his house seemed compared to Japan's, and he felt completely embarrassed. Japan hadn't said anything, but he knew that was only because the man was too polite.

Arthur was determined to have the house look nice for the next time Japan, or anyone else, visited. So far he had only been able to able to get curtains, but Arthur was optimistic that he would get more things soon.

He waited by his usual area (at the edge of the marketplace, where it was less crowded) but didn't receive any more jobs.

Arthur wondered if a new wizard had shown up. That happened occasionally, and people went to the newbie (complaining about Arthur's "attitude". Please. At least he got the job done) until it was proven, as it always was, that Arthur was better skilled.

He was seriously considering just given up for now and trying later when a figure walked towards him.

Oh great. It was Francis. And his day had been going relatively well.

"What the hell do you want, France?" Arthur nearly spat. He really didn't want to deal with that frog right now.

"Oh, but England? Aren't you glad to see me? It's been too long~ I missed you after class…tell me you aren't avoiding me, my sweet." Francis practically purred while he began invading Arthur's personal space. Arthur didn't know why the pervert insisted on molesting everyone he met, but it was incredibly annoying.

"Get the hell off me! What are you doing here anyways? Who let you out of your cage?" Arthur asked while forcibly removing the arm snaking around his shoulders.

"You wound me." Francis said as he dramatically placed his hand over his heart. "Must you treat me so? Especially when I took time away from my shop just to visit you…"

"I don't care what you did. I don't feel like talking to you right now. My day has been practically pleasant so far, and I want it to stay that way!"

That only made Francis smile. "You can be so grouchy sometimes. It's not attractive at all."

Arthur's planned rebuttal was stopped when Francis' teasing face suddenly turned serious. He leaned in closer towards him, and not in his usual grabby way (or else Arthur would have pushed him away), so that he could whisper confidentially to him.

"Can we go somewhere else? There's something I need to speak to you about, Arthur." Francis said, and Arthur would have slapped him (No, not slapped. That sounded much too girly. Rather, he would have hit him, yes that was it) if he hadn't sounded so serious. After looking to see that no one had overheard Francis saying his real name (Thank goodness no one had, that would be dangerous), he nodded.

It wasn't a far walk to Francis' shop, seeing as they were already at the market place.

No matter how much he hated coming in here, Arthur had to admit that it was a very nice place. Battle clothes and armor of all kinds, sewn in with Francis' own magic, hanged all along the walls. Francis was one of the best tailors out there, specializing in the clothes worn to battle.

He was very popular for the fact that everything he made was both beautiful (if a bit flashy in Arthur's opinion) and lightweight. And of course, they held up in battle. Though there was a rumor going around that if one touched a certain point on any of the clothes, they would all fall off. Arthur had never seen any proof of it, but the rumors somehow made the frog's store even more popular (which didn't make sense. Why would people want all their clothes to fall of in battle?).

"So why did you bring me here? You better not be trying to get into my pants." Arthur said as Francis led them into a quiet and secluded room.

"No, no. Perhaps some other time?" Francis gave a quick wink before turning serious again.

"There's something going on." He said, completely surprising Arthur with the dire tone of his voice.

"Wh-What do you mean?" Arthur asked, still a little shocked by Francis' sudden mood change.

"About six guards came in yesterday asking for armor."

"So?" Was this all Francis brought him here for? Who knew why the guards, who were loosely in charge of protecting Abaddon's borders and keeping the peace, did what they did? And why should he care?

"The same guards had already come in only the week before." Francis said, and Arthur felt a wave of dread through him.

"Their-Their armor was destroyed that fast?" Sure, Arthur didn't like the man, but even he knew that Francis' armor held up well in battle and lasted long. What they hell were the guards fighting?

"And that's not all. Norway is missing. So is Taiwan."

"What do you mean?" Arthur didn't even think people could go missing in Abaddon.

"No one can find their bodies. And we haven't been able to contact them in real life." Francis said, his face looking worn.

"Wha-How is that possible?" This was bad. This was really bad. Francis hadn't said it out loud, but he knew what he was thinking.

Norway and Taiwan were both wizards, like him. But surely that was a coincidence, right?

"I just wanted to warn you. I'm not sure whether or not it's just wizards or magic-users in general…we will not know until more go missing. Hopefully it will not come to that." Francis said, looking tired.

First Turkey's strange behavior and now this. Well, now that Arthur thought about it, the marketplace had been a lot less crowded then usual hadn't it? And there seemed to be more guards then usual…

Something was going on in Abaddon.

Arthur would have to be more careful.

Francis and Arthur agreed to keep each other posted if they found out anything else. They may fight more often then not, but if there was something out there…it was better to have an ally then an enemy. Even if Arthur did hate his guts.

After making an agreement to keep an eye out and report to Francis if he saw anything suspicious, Arthur decided to leave.

Maybe there was something to what Turkey had said earlier. Maybe it was time to redo the barriers on _his_ house.

With that plan in mind, Arthur decided to skip the marketplace today and head back to his house. His mind was heavy with all the things he learned, and he didn't pay much attention as he walked the way back home.

That was probably why he hadn't heard the screams until it was too late.

Out of nowhere some blond screaming idiot ran into him with a thump, causing Arthur to fall down on the floor.

"What the hell!"

Arthur didn't even have a moment to say anything else before the idiot began muttering something about being "too awesome to die!".

Arthur was able to get up faster before the idiot could, and nearly groaned.

Oh Great. It was a newbie.

Before he could ask the idiot anything, like if anyone else had found him yet (please dear God DO not let him be the first one he ran into) or _why _he was running around screaming, the idiot fainted.

"You have got to be kidding me." Arthur said.

Arthur was positive now, it was definitely someone new. And, judging by the accent he could make out from the boy's mutterings, he was American. Just his luck.

Hoping against hope, Arthur waited to see if the newbie's keeper would show up. But, after a minute or so of staring at the slumped body on the ground, Arthur decided that no one was coming.

Wonderful. Just bloody wonderful. _He_ would have to be the one to show the dolt around.

In Abaddon, a newbie was somewhat rare. It wasn't very often that someone new was able to find a way to Abaddon, but when they did, there were certain rules to follow. Teaching someone new the rules of the place, especially if they were 'naturals' and had no idea how they had gotten there, was a pain. There were no volunteers for such a chore, so it was a general non-spoken rule that the first person to run into a newbie would be the one to teach them the ropes.

Arthur had no time for dealing with that extra chore, and was very tempted to just leave the fool here for someone else to find. But, looking at the idiot laying there on the floor (he couldn't have been more then eighteen. How had he ended up here? Natural most likely…), he knew he didn't have the heart to do so.

So, knowing that he would regret doing so, Arthur bent down to pick him up.

And nearly dropped him instantly as a course of dark energy swept through him.

_Shite._

Arthur said a protective chant as quick as he could, but it was too late. The damage was already done.

Somehow, without even knowing his true name, the idiot had cursed him! Could this day get any worse?

At least the dark energy was gone, Arthur thought with relieve as looked at the unconscious idiot again. He let out an aggravated sigh. He couldn't blame the newbie, he probably hadn't meant to do it on purpose.

The idiot must have accidentally let out some of his magical energy when he arrived in Abaddon, it was a bit of a common occurrence for new arrivals. The energy was probably the reason he was running in the first place, having most likely taken on a physical form when lost control. And, if it was the type of energy belonging to cursing magic, it was little wonder the boy had run screaming.

Arthur should have known better then to try and touch the idiot before doing a protective spell, he had been around here long enough to realize that the kid's unstable energy could attack him.

But, in Arthur's defense, he did have a lot on his mind at the moment. Not to mention he didn't think the idiot would be strong enough to lay a curse on him.

Just great. But at least the curse was likely to be minor. The kid was new, and didn't know his name, so Arthur probably just wouldn't be able to find his left sock for a week. Annoying, but relatively harmless.

With a disgruntled grunt (and another protective spell), Arthur reached down in a more successful attempt to pick the idiot up.

This time the only problem was how heavy the dolt proved to be (seriously, what the hell did this kid eat?).

It took even longer then usual to get home while carrying the newbie, all that weight wasn't easy to just haul over, and it was late by the time Arthur made it inside his small house.

"Home sweet home." Arthur said dryly as he tried to look for a place to put the idiot's body.

Hopefully he would wake up soon, so Arthur could refer to him as something other then "the idiot" or "the kid" and the like.

Arthur had thought he had heard the idiot (he really didn't know what else to call him) speak in an American accent. As far as Arthur knew there wasn't anyone from America in Abaddon, which meant that when the idiot woke up, and if he did turn out to be from that obnoxious country, that would be his new name.

However, Arthur was hoping (against all odds) that he had simply heard wrong and they would be getting another new addition from England. Probably name him London or something.

But it wouldn't do to think about such things before the idiot was awake. He would take care of it then.

Though there was also the problem that he didn't know when the blond would wake up. Not knowing where he was from meant that Arthur had no idea of the clock the kid was running on, and when he would go back to sleep in the real world.

That was a bit of a problem. Especially since it was nearly time for Arthur to wake up. The dealing with Turkey, talking to Francis, and dealing with this idiot had taken up most of his night. What would happen if the idiot woke up when he wasn't there, and panicked?

Arthur decided to not worry about it. He would just write a note explaining to the kid to wait for the next time he would be in Abaddon. Or tell him to just look for someone else to teach him the ropes (maybe he would be able to get out of teaching the newbie yet).

But first he had to find out where to put the kid.

It really was too bad that Arthur hadn't been able to afford a couch yet.

The only thing he had that was comfortable to lie on was his bed… No. Arthur was _not_ Francis. There was no way he was going to let some stranger lie on his bed while _he _was using it.

So the floor it was.

Arthur wasn't completely heartless, he did use the cover of his bed to make a makeshift mattress and remove some of his pillows in order to make it more comfortable. But it was still the floor.

Oh well. It was the best he could manage at the moment. And besides, it was just about time for Arthur to wake up in the real world. He would deal with everything the next night.

With that thought in mind Arthur laid down on his own bed, closed his eyes, and drifted into the sleep. It would only take a few minutes for him to wake up, relatively rested, in his apartment back in London. Just like every other night.

Except that didn't happen. Tonight, of all nights, Arthur awoke to find himself still in Abaddon.

_What?_

_

* * *

_

Yay! End of Chapter Two! I apologize that England and America haven't really talked to each other yet. I assure you that they will next chapter.

I'm also sorry if some things may be a bit confusing. I think almost any questions you have will be answered in the next chapter, where the world (and some of what is going on) will explained a little chapter was written the way it was mostly 'cause I don't like it when characters who are supposed to know things act like they don't know things. You know what I mean? But if you have any questions (even if they are really random) I'll answer them if I don't they will be answered next chapter. Or maybe I'll just answer them anyways. It depends.

Also - Oh my goodness I am so tired right now. It's super late where I am, but I was determined to get this up by today. That's probably why it might seem why I'm talking nonsense right now. I am about to collapse, and will do so as soon as this is posted.

And I'll talk about why I choose the name Abaddon (the name was in the chapter a lot, eh? Sorry about that. It was a little necessary) later, probably next chapters notes if anyone's interested. But I'm too exhausted to do it now.

Next chapter will be up next week. See ya then~


	3. Chapter 3

Hey guys! Sorry this is a little late. Well, technically it's not late in my time zone...and I count Monday, not Sunday, as the start of the week. But if it's not Sunday anymore where you are, then I'm sorry! Maybe not really lateness was caused by studying/taking a Biology Subject SAT test when I hadn't taken Biology yet. Hopefully the fact that this is longer then usual will make up for it. Plus, the moment you guys have all been waiting for! So without further ado- Here's Chapter three!

Enjoy!

* * *

Alfred woke up in a cold sweat, his neck icy where the ghost's hand had reached for him. He panted, the terror from the dream still with him, before he realized he was awake. He was safe.

Looking around to check if he had woken anyone up (he wasn't sure if he had screamed in his sleep or something) and seeing that Matthew was still asleep allowed him to fully relax.

That had been particularly…vivid. Alfred had never been one to remember his dreams (only glimpses of him flying through a blue sky, or a giant robot), but he could remember every detail of that nightmare.

The black-mass/ghost's feral smile, his body feeling heavy, the harsh pavement, all of it stayed with him. Alfred even remembered the surprised voice and the green eyes of the guy he had run into. That hadn't been such a bad part of the dream. He remembered feeling relieved that he had found someone (Alfred hated being alone, especially when there was ghosts involved). Sure, the guy sounded angry, but at least it didn't feel like he was trying to hurt him.

Unlike that ghost.

Alfred hated ghosts, he always had. Everyone who got to know him learned this first hand whenever he insisted on watching a horror movie. He always ended up a clingy wreck. Some people asked why he insisted on watching such movies if they affected him so much, but Alfred thought it was simple. It was fun getting scared once in a while, and Alfred would rather go without hamburgers for a month before he was the last one to see the latest horror blockbuster. He had to keep up with all the other horror buffs!

But that dream hadn't been a horror movie. He hadn't been able to just pause or turn off when it got too scary. Alfred's heart began beating just a little bit harder remembering the way it had felt at the end of the dream. It was almost like…it was almost like the ghost had run through him.

Way too creepy!

Not that Alfred was scared _now_. Of course not. The dream was over, and Alfred had no reason to be scared, right?

At least that what Alfred tried to tell himself as he resisted the urge to crawl into Matthew's bed like he did when he was younger. Alfred was eighteen now, he didn't need to cling to someone whenever he was scared!

Still, Matthew was _right_ there…

"Hey. Hey, Mattie." Alfred whispered as he poked the sleeping face of his (practically blood) brother.

Matthew just grunted in response, and turned over in bed.

Alfred would have just let it at that and gone back to bed, if the bedroom door hadn't opened up by itself with a slow creak.

And just like that Alfred hopped into his step-brother's bed and began hanging unto Matthew for dear life.

"…Alfred…Why are you in my bed? Explain." Matthew's tired and annoyed voice came from underneath Alfred's chest.

"There's a ghost!" Alfred said in a nervous whisper, hugging Matthew tighter as the door gave another creak.

Matthew was quiet for a moment, as if his still tired mind was processing the information, before he spoke again. "That's just the wind, Alfred. Go back to bed, eh."

"I can't!" Alfred whispered again, though he felt just a little reassured by Matthew's explanation. It was really windy tonight after all.

"It's what…" Matthew paused, briefly glancing at his digital clock before continuing, "3 am? It's too early for this!"

Alfred felt a pain in his stomach as he was unceremoniously kicked out of Matthew's bed.

"Just let me sleep, eh!" Matthew said, his back turning away from Alfred.

Well what was he going to do now? It wasn't like he was going to go to his parent or Gramps for comfort (that would be way too embarrassing).

There was no way Alfred was going to get any more sleep. He knew he would just go right back into the nightmare (which was what usually happened in the rare times he had nightmares). Not to mention that Alfred could swear there was a pair of eyes watching him.

Maybe he was just being paranoid.

Either way, Alfred wasn't particularly keen on going to sleep again.

After putting his glasses back on, he decided he would try to stay up by turning his laptop back on and surfing the internet. It was too bad he wasn't sleeping in his own room tonight. Then he could just spend the night rereading all his comic books. But Matthew would probably be pissed if he turned on the light to read, and Alfred didn't want to risk waking up his grandfather (who was sleeping in his room) to get the books.

So Alfred made due with the internet, and played with random people on his shooter game. Alfred tried to chase the feeling of being watched away by killing as many players as he could (he broke a new personal record that night).

Amazingly, even though the bright screen of the laptop made his eyelids feel heavy, Alfred managed to stay awake.

But by the time 8:00 came around, Alfred was basically a walking zombie. His family had been nothing but surprised when they saw him up early enough to eat breakfast with them. It was a well known fact that Alfred liked to celebrate Saturdays by not waking up until noon.

Dad and Angela seemed worried, and asked him if anything had happened. Alfred, only having slept about three hours, could barely throw together a coherent sentence. Gramps was excited, thinking that his grandson was finally becoming a morning person like him. And Matthew looked slightly guilty.

Not that Alfred was really paying that much attention to everyone. It took all he had not to collapse into his pancakes.

He tried to drink coffee to keep himself awake, not so much caring about the nightmare as much as the worry of wasting his Saturday afternoon by sleeping, but to no avail.

Alfred only lasted two more hours before he finally passed out on the living room couch.

* * *

When Alfred opened up his eyes, he wasn't lying on the couch like he expected.

Instead, he was on a soft bed. At first Alfred wondered if he had somehow fallen asleep in his bedroom, until he saw forest green sheets (and not his blue and white starred ones). Not to mention that something just felt off. There was some kind of smell on the sheets…some herbal scent that wasn't exactly unpleasant.

Alfred kind of liked how relaxing the smell was, and just laid there on a soft bed for a moment. He no longer felt the eyes that he swore had been watching him ever since he had woken up from that nightmare earlier, and it felt nice to just let his guard down.

Until he realized he had no idea where he was. Alfred sat up from the bed with a jolt and began to look around to figure out where he could be. At first he was a little surprised to be able to see the small bland room he was currently in clearly, until he felt the familiar weight of his glasses on his nose. That was right, he had fallen asleep with them on when he passed out on the couch…but he obviously wasn't in his living room anymore. Where was he?

"Oh, You're up. Finally." Alfred immediately turned to the voice, to see a familiar scowling man standing near the door. Was he dreaming? Alfred recognized the green eyes and messy blond hair belonging to the man he had bumped into in his last nightmare…

"Yeah. I'm dreaming." Alfred said to himself, confused but completely sure. There was no possible way that anyone could have those big eyebrows anywhere but inside a dream.

Green eyed-scowling-eyebrow man gave him a bit of a surprised look before talking. "Yes, I suppose you could call it that. So you actually know what's happening to you right now?"

Alfred thought he could feel himself shake his head 'no' but, really, all of his attention was on those eyebrows. "They're like caterpillars." He said bluntly. The resemblance was amazing.

The man seemed confused, until realization dawned on him. His whole face went red, and the two caterpillars scrunched up in an angry 'V' that made Alfred want to laugh.

"You ungrateful little- Do you know what you've done?" Having a stranger yell at him probably should have made Alfred a bit concerned, but it was a dream after all. It wasn't like the guy could hurt him or anything.

"Not really. But I'm dreaming, right? So I probably did something awesome. Or did I forget this big test or something? Man, I hate those kinds of dreams." Alfred said casually, making himself comfortable by sitting up on the unfamiliar bed.

The man made a strange face again, before letting out a sigh. "You really are new, aren't you? Bollocks…I'm going to have to start from the beginning."

The man (well he really didn't look all the much older then Alfred) sat down on the edge of the bed, on the side farthest from Alfred.

"Hallo. My name is England. You are currently in Abaddon." The man-England said, putting out his hand for Alfred to shake.

Alfred took it. "That's a weird name. Isn't that a country? Like in Asia or something?"

One of England's (who the heck named their kid after a country?) eyebrows visibly twitched. "I think that's the stupidest thing I have ever heard. England is part of the United Kingdom."

"Yeah. Like I said. Asia."

"No. Just-just no. It's in Europe, you...!" England seemed to make a conscious attempt to not insult him, and Alfred took the pause as a cue to introduce himself.

"Whatever. Well, it's nice to meet ya! I'm Alfred F-"

"Stop!" England yelled, closing some of the distance between them in order to slam a hand over Alfred's mouth.

Alfred ignored the fact that his first thought was that the England's hand smelled nice (like the bed), and instead tried to ask what the guy-named-after-a-country's problem was. But all that came out was "Whhsassffftttt."

"Don't. Don't say your real name." England commanded, holding his hand over Alfred's mouth until he nodded in understanding.

England then wiped off his hand on his pants (which was kinda insulting, it wasn't like Alfred had spit on him or anything. Okay, maybe just a little bit) and sighed. This guy really sighed a lot.

"Where are you from?"

"Uh…I live in New York!" Alfred decided to not tell him the specifics because, even if this England guy was a figment of his own imagination, he didn't feel too comfortable about giving him his address. "The state, not the city. Though my town isn't that far from there. Me and my family go there a couple times. The last time I was there-"

"Yes. I get it. Well then, while you're here, your name will be America."

"Oh! I get it! It's like a code name right? So you really aren't named England." Alfred (apparently now America) said in understanding. "What's your real name then?"

"A code name, yes, something like that. And no, I don't think I'll be giving you my real name quite yet." England said, his frown somewhat lessening. "And I suggest you don't give anyone yours either."

"Why not?" Alfred asked. He could understand code names, because they were awesome, but he didn't understand why it was a big deal if he told people his real name.

England paused, seeming to think of what he would say next, before he began again. "Right now, you are sleeping."

"Uh, duh. I'm dreaming." Alfred said. He didn't need eyebrow dude to point that out to him.

England's frown returned full force. "No. Well, I mean yes, I suppose. Your body, right now, is technically sleeping. But you…you're in Abaddon. You came here for what I assume was the first time last night, and you will starting coming here every time you fall asleep. But don't misunderstand. Even though you are dreaming, this place is real."

"Soo… you're saying that I was here during my nightmare last night?" Alfred asked, a bit doubtful.

"Yes. That is exactly what I am saying." This guy was talking kind of weird. And that was another weird thing about this whole situation. There was too much talking going on. Usually in Alfred's dreams, in the little he could remember, there was always action. Not this-whatever it was. Alfred was going to ask the guy to do something, like shoot lasers out of his eyes or something entertaining, but he kept talking.

"The reason for the 'code names', as you put it, is very important. Everyone here is real, all with somewhat normal lives in 'real' life, and not everyone will like you. This is just like the normal world, except people can do something about it in Abaddon. If someone wants to hurt you, it would be very easy to do so. Especially if you go about saying your real name like that. Giving someone your true name here is like willingly giving them power over you. All they would need to do is curse you with your real name, and they would be able to do all sorts of things to you. They could injure you, give you bad luck, or even kill you and there would be no way for you to fight it. Or, they could simply look up who you are and where you live in the real world, and harm you when they know you are asleep and unable to defend yourself. Having code names makes everyone safer, and anonymous."

"Oh." Alfred said, sort of understanding why England was so adamant about him not introducing himself earlier. Even though Alfred was pretty sure England wouldn't curse him or something. Why would he go to all that trouble of not letting him say his name, even though they were the only ones in the room, if he wanted to hurt him? Unless he was just avoiding the temptation.

"But if people can do all that to you, why would anyone want to come here?" Alfred hadn't been here long, but he didn't really see the appeal so far. If what England was saying was true, then the last time he had been here some ghost had tried to kill him. And that wasn't cool.

"This is a place where people, like you and me, can come to practice and hone our gifts. All while still being able to live our normal lives." England had a kind of excited look on his face, which was a nice change of pace from his usual scowl.

"What gifts?" Alfred asked, starting to get just a little curious. He kinda wanted to know what England was talking about, it all sounded interesting if a little strange. But it was a dream, and dreams were usually strange he supposed. Plus, if it got England (who had been frowning for most of the short time he had known him) excited, it had to be pretty cool.

England seemed to be waiting for him to ask that question, and immediately gave him a determined look as he spoke. "Have you ever done something? Something that you couldn't really explain, and didn't even know you could do? Like…you wished for something to happen, maybe for a lucky break or for your enemy to lose his phone or something, and it actually happened?"

"You totally sound like Dumbledore." Alfred said because, really, he did.

England seemed a bit startled by this, until his face turned annoyed. "Would you take this seriously?" He paused for a moment before speaking again. "Besides, it was Hagrid who said that."

"Sorry." Alfred said, not really sure if he was apologizing for not taking it 'seriously' or for getting the book characters wrong. Either way, the apology seemed to improve the guy's mood by just a little.

Alfred figured he might as well answer England's question before he got mad again. "And no, I don't think so. Nothing like that's ever happened to me, at least not that I've noticed."

England seemed to accept that answer, even though he looked a little disappointed. "That's alright. Perhaps you just haven't noticed. I didn't notice my own magic starting to grow until a little while after I came here. You'll learn to control your gift soon, don't worry. You belong here. I'm assuming that, since you didn't know what this place was before you came, that you are one of the naturals. Some people just start coming here, on their own, at certain times of their lives. They always seem to have some kind of magical flair about them. And most of them, like you, don't understand where they are or how they got here. Which is why people, like me unfortunately, have to act as a kind of mentor to you. Teach you the ropes and such."

"Cool!" Alfred said, standing up from the bed with new-found enthusiasm. "So I can do magic and stuff now? When can I get started with that?" This dream was starting to get more interesting, especially if it meant he could be a wizard or something. Just like in the movies!

England stood up from the bed with a dark look. "I'm afraid you have already 'gotten started'." He crossed his arms across his chest, looking very annoyed again for some reason.

"Huh?" Alfred really was losing track on what kept making England angry at him.

"One of your first actions upon coming here was to curse me! I understand that you didn't mean too, but you are still at fault for horribly messing up my schedule."

"I cursed you?" Alfred wasn't sure how to feel about that. Sure magic was cool, but Alfred was a hero! Heroes didn't curse people.

"Yes! Some of your excessive energy zapped me after you oh-so-graciously fainted earlier, and I haven't been able to wake up in the real world since!"

"…Is that bad?"

"YES. That is VERY bad." England seemed more tired then angry. "I've been waiting for you to wake up and reverse it. It's already far past the time I should have waken up. I've missed my job's shift no doubt." England spoke the last part more to himself then Alfred, but it still managed to make him feel guilty.

"I'm really sorry. I don't fully get what's going on but- can I try to help or something? I don't want you to get fired."

England looked slightly surprised by the apology, and his frown left his face fully for the first time Alfred had known him. His face grew just a tiny bit red (making Alfred wonder for a brief moment if he was going to yell again) before he nodded and cleared his throat. "Um, yes. I doubt they'll fire me for missing my shift this once. But I would still like your help getting back. As I said before, you'll have to reverse whatever curse you put on me."

"Sure! I'll save you!" Alfred said excitingly, striking a heroic pose. He stayed in that pose, one hand in a fist and the other in a thumbs up, for about ten solid seconds before he dropped it. "But how exactly do I do that?"

"…I'm not very skilled in cursing magic, but I assume you just wish for it. You had to have done something similar the last time you were here, or else there wouldn't have been such a curse floating around." England replied, although he didn't look very sure.

"Oh!" Alfred said, his eyes widening as he realized what England was talking about. He had wished for a hamburger the last time he was here! So his wishing for something really had worked? But going from a hamburger to a curse didn't really make sense…oh well.

"Okay, let me try." Alfred stared at England, and concentrated hard. _No curse. No curse. No curse._

He kept repeating that thought over and over again, until he started to feel a headache come on.

"Did it work?" Alfred asked hopefully, after having done nothing but concentrating for over a minute.

England looked over himself, before shaking his head in a negative. "I'm afraid not. Nothing feels different."

"What do we do now?" Alfred felt kind of useless. He was the one that caused the problem, so he should be the one to fix it, right? England said he had the power to fix it, but he wasn't really feeling any type of power at the moment.

"I was afraid of this. I don't think your power is strong enough to reverse it right now...In fact, you shouldn't have been able to cast such a strong curse in the first place. It must have been a fluke of some kind." England said, looking like he was trying to think of something else that would work.

"So are you just going to be stuck in this place forever?" Alfred said, a little worried. He didn't want to be responsible for trapping someone here.

"No, no. I highly doubt it. Your curse couldn't possibly be strong enough. I would be much more worried if that were so. It would probably wear off on it's own in a few days…but I would prefer to return home as soon as possible. I have things to attend to after all…" England paused for a moment in thought before he spoke again. "Then it's decided. We'll have to go see China."

"The country?" Alfred asked, a bit confused. Wasn't this place, Abbadune or whatever, supposed to not be on Earth? Or something like that? How were they going to get there if England was stuck here…oh wait.

"There's someone named China here." Alfred stated. He was catching on to this people-name-after-countries thing.

"Caught it right on the nail." England said, looking a bit proud that Alfred was learning. "China has a knack for activating gifts, among other things. Even though he usually charges, I'm sure he'll help us out if I explain the situation. He owes me."

"So we can leave this room?" Alfred asked, excited to see more of this place England kept talking about. All he had seen so far was that dark alleyway from before and the small room he had been standing in for what felt like forever.

"Well, of course. China lives closer to Abaddon's borders. We should probably get going if I want to be awake by tonight."

Alfred made the first move to open the room's door, but was quickly stopped by England.

"Wait. Where do you think you're going?" He demanded, one of his furry eyebrows raising.

"Um, outside? I thought you said we could go now!" Alfred really didn't want to spend another minute in the room. He wanted to get in on the action! Or at least see something besides the plain white walls currently surrounding him.

"You aren't going anywhere until you put on something respectable. I refuse to be seen walking with you in such a state!"

Alfred had no idea what England was talking about, until he looked down at himself.

What the-? How long had he been wearing his pajamas for?

Alfred could feel his ears turn red. It just had to be his airplane pajamas pants too, didn't it? Man, this was embarrassing. Though, if he remembered correctly, that _had _been what he was wearing when he passed out on the couch…

That was just a coincidence though, right? This whole thing was just some crazy dream that his mind had come up with. He was just deciding to along with it for now…of course. Maybe.

"Oh…uh…Wh-what should I change into then?" Alfred tried not to look England in the eye, still feeling embarrassed about being caught wearing airplane pajamas. Usually he always defended them when Matthew teased him about it, but there was something kind of mortifying about England seeing them.

England didn't seem bother though, and Alfred guessed that he was used to people wearing their pajamas over here. "I suppose there's no helping it. You'll have to borrow some of my clothes. Just take what you want from the dresser over there." He said, pointing to the brown dresser that was up against the farther wall.

"Uh…England? I don't think that's going to work…" Alfred was about a head taller then England, not to mention he had a much larger frame then him. "You're kinda smaller then me, if you haven't noticed."

England huffed, and opened the door to leave. "Just change into the damn clothes."

He shut the door, leaving Alfred inside the room with little choice. It was either try to fit into the small clothes, walk around in his pajamas, or go naked.

He shrugged and figure that, since this was just a dream, he might as well go with it. Some clothes had to fit, right?

* * *

It was almost unbelievable how Arthur was managing to stay calm.

Nearly anyone else would be panicking right now, if they were in his position. It would be understandable.

Right now Arthur was stuck in Abaddon, with no real guarantee of when he would leave. Not to mention he was stuck teaching a new kid around who, by the way, was the whole cause of his current predicament.

And, of course, there was the fact that people (specifically wizard types) had been going missing in Abaddon.

Arthur was not in the best of situations at the moment.

But, miraculously, he was managing to keep calm.

The first few hours after he found out he could not leave Abaddon had been slightly nerve-wrecking. He had refused to get help at first, sure that someone would take advantage of him in this fragile state. But, after cleaning up his bed and putting the idiot on it (since he wouldn't be using the bed anytime soon), he spent the rest of his time waiting for the kid to wake up in relative calmness.

He had a plan.

The first thing he had to take care of was obviously his not-being-able-to-wake-up problem.

Which he was already on his way to solving.

In his room right now was America, the cause of said problem, who he would be leaving with to go see China. After the idiot finished changing. What on earth was taking so long?

But nonetheless, as soon as America was done, they would go see China and make his gift stronger. Then America would be strong enough to reverse the curse, and Arthur would be able to go back home.

Though by the time he got there, it would already be time to go to sleep again. His schedule was being completely messed up by this whole event.

And then, after taking care of things in the real world, he would come back to Abaddon and investigate the disappearing wizards. And whatever the guards of Abaddon were fighting.

All while teaching America how to survive on his own here. Yes, Arthur had a lot to do.

Which was why he was getting slightly annoyed at how long America was taking. They could have made it to China's by now! Well, not really, but Arthur didn't want to waste anymore time.

"America. Are you finished yet?" Arthur asked through the bedroom door, hoping that the idiot would hurry up. Even though he now had a name, Arthur was still in the habit of referring to America as the 'idiot' inside his head. Not that it was totally unfitting.

There was a pause before America answered. "…Oh yeah! That's my name here, right? Keep your pants on old man. I'm done."

Arthur was about to yell at him for calling him an old man (he was only twenty-two, he was _not _old) when America opened the door.

Oh.

America had been right, Arthur's clothes were definitely too tight for him. The pants he had borrowed looked short on him, the end of them reaching a few inches shorter then where they usually did on Arthur. The short sleeved shirt hugged part of America's arms tightly, which showed off strong muscles. There was no possible way that Arthur's button shirt would have closed all the way across the boy's wide chest, so America had tried to improvise by leaving the buttons open to reveal his bare chest-and Arthur mentally stopped where his train of thought was going (or had been going).

"Dude, why so many sweater vests? You're like what, twenty five? Isn't this what old guys wear?" America said, thankfully ignoring where Arthur's eyes had been looking. No, not thankfully, because Arthur had not been checking him out. Not at all.

"I'm twenty-two." Arthur grumbled turning away to hide the red blush that was _not _on his cheeks. "I apologize for being too old to wear such childish things as airplane pajamas. What are you, twelve?"

"Wha-They are not childish! Airplanes are awesome! And-and I'm eighteen!" America whined, trying to defend himself.

"You sure don't act like it." Arthur said, smiling as he regained some of his pride back. "Come on now, we have to head over to China."

America made a few indignant noises before following Arthur as he walked outside of the house.

"Welcome to Abaddon." Arthur said as they stepped outside, stopping for a quick moment to show America the new surroundings.

"Woah. Looks kinda like those Renaissance fairs you see on tv." America said, his mouth a small 'o'.

Arthur nodded. "Yes. The area I live in does slightly resemble that time period. Though, you'll find soon enough, there are many different styles, with different influences, in Abaddon. It's quite a melting pot."

"Cool." America said, and the two continued to walk. "So where's this China live?"

"He lives near the boundaries of the city. It's not too far from here, so it shouldn't be a long walk." Arthur answered, though this seemed to cause a confused look to cross America's face.

"Boundaries? What, so there's more to this magical dream city place?"

Arthur didn't really like the skeptical tone in America's voice, but he knew it was his job as a mentor to answer his questions.

"Yes. Abaddon is a large place, but it doesn't go on forever. There's ends to it."

"What's beyond this place then? What would happen if you just kept walking?" America asked, skeptical tone gone, and Arthur had to slightly admire how curious the boy was.

"There's monsters out there. I wouldn't suggest you to go out there without anything to protect yourself. You wouldn't last a minute, seeing how new you are." Arthur wasn't trying to be mean by saying this, it was simply true. Something really could happen to America if he were to go someplace so out of his league.

"Monsters, huh? I bet I could totally handle them! I'm on my school's football team, you know. I'm the quarterback." America said, smiling at him. Was he trying to impress him? It wasn't working.

"I don't see how kicking a football around would save you from a monster." Arthur said dryly.

"What? You don't kick a football! Well, only sometimes. You gotta carry it!"

Oh, he was talking about American football. Wonderful.

"That's America football. In real football you kick the ball around, into goals. And even if so, I doubt you would be strong enough to seriously threaten any beast here." Arthur could feel a small smile coming on. It was comfortable in a strange way, arguing with him like this. If this was Francis, he would have hit him by now.

"Ahh that's soccer! You European guys are so weird. Besides, I'm plenty strong!" America slapped him on the back in what Arthur supposed was meant to be a friendly gesture, but only caused him to gasp in pain. The force behind the hit had been unexpected, and Arthur nearly fell over in surprise.

"Oh! Oh man, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hit so hard!" America caught him before he could fall over, and helped him to stand up straight again. Arthur accepted the help without complaint, though he sent a glare in the American's direction.

"G-Guess I don't know my own strength? Hehe…" America rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, and Arthur sighed.

"It's fine. Let's just keep moving, alright?"

America smiled at this and nodded excitingly, happy to continue walking.

They spent the rest of the walk without anything eventful happening. Arthur would point out some of the buildings and information on their owners as they walked passed, and America would ask questions that Arthur would patiently answer.

There were only a few more arguments, mostly about which sport was better: American football or football (or soccer, as America had called it). But for the most part it wasn't…unpleasant.

Not that America wasn't a pain in his arse. Because he was.

"Are we there yet?" Seemed to be America's favorite question. He had asked him about twenty times already. He had counted.

They had been walking for what felt like an hour when Arthur started to notice the number of buildings they passed dropping. It was the first sign that they were growing close to China's house.

There was more open space around them, giving the two of them a clear view of the area.

There was a small forest ahead of them, far off from their path. Plants grew freely here, with no one to cut them down. The scenery was relaxing, yet there was a muted color to the plants. It was as if this place could only replicate some the wonders that the natural world had to offer.

But it was still beautiful to look at. And the muted colors served the purpose of letting Arthur know that they were no magical creatures in the vicinity. If there were fairies or other similar spirits, the colors of the plants and the fields would be bright and filled with magic.

But the muted colors showed that no such creatures were present, which Arthur was slightly grateful for. He was friends with nearly all such creatures in Abaddon, but he wasn't sure how they would take to America. And if they decided they didn't like him, they might have caused trouble for them both. It was better that they were alone.

"Hey…England?" America spoke, breaking Arthur's train of thought.

"Yes?" Arthur asked. Pleased don't say it. Please don't say it.

"Are we there yeeeettttt?"

He said it.

Arthur turned around to face America, his temper flaring again.

"America…as I said the time before, and the time before that, NO. No, we are not there yet. We will not be there yet for another then minutes! And if you keep asking, I swear I will send you to another dimension!"

America just stood there, his eyes wide in shock and his jaw dropped. "Eng-England…" He stuttered, and Arthur felt slightly bad. Sure, he was a bit annoyed. But did America really think he was going to send him to another dimension?

"Don't look so shocked, it's not like I'm going to-"

"Ennglandddd…" America interrupted, his eyes still wide, as he pointed his finger to the area behind Arthur.

"What?" Why was America acting so strange?

"Be-Behind you…"

A sudden feeling of dread overcame Arthur, and he didn't even need to turn around to know why America was acting that way.

"There's something behind me, isn't there."

America nodded, and Arthur finally turned around to come face to face with an angry monster.

It was similar looking to a boar, except it was covered in metal scales that Arthur had a bad feeling where most likely made of steel. Two long metal spikes came from the creature's nose, two long metal spikes that were now aimed right for Arthur.

"America. Run."

"What? No way! I'm not going to let you just-"

"Listen. To. Me." Arthur said, his voice taking on the most authoritative tone he could muster. There was no way Arthur was going to let some beast kill the first person he had ever been the mentor of. "Run you git!"

Arthur didn't have time to see if America obeyed his orders. Before he was able to turn around and check, the monster began charging straight towards him.

* * *

Weeee~

Oh, and quickie note. In Alfred's POV, he doesn't know Arthur's name, so he refers to him as England. Same goes for Arthur. So it's easy to tell whose POV it is :D

So yeah. I'm really sorry it ended on such a cliff hanger! But I didn't want this chapter to go on too long, and I didn't want to do more then two POV switches between Arthur and Alfred in one chapter. But the next chapter is gonna be full of action, I promise! It's gonna be fun you guys~

And thank you all who have read, alerted, favorited, and reviewed this story! GAH I love you all.

Next chapter will be up ...next week? Next week if you don't count Sunday as the beginning of the week. Within seven days. Probably sooner, since I have tomorrow off.

See ya then!


	4. Chapter 4

Hey guys! Sorry this is so late! But I do have an explanation. This chapter was finished three days ago, and would have been up on schedule if it weren't for my sucky internet connection.

I have been without internet for a full week now. The only way I've been able to reply to all of your lovely reviews is by using the internet at my school (where I can still acess my email). I literally had to wait until I could borrow one of my friend's USBs to get the file for this chapter of my computer onto one that has internet. So yeah. I'm really really angry at my network, but at least I can get this to you guys :D

And there's something important I gotta say, but it can wait until after this chapter...Enjoy~

* * *

Alfred had always admired heroes. As a child he had basically lived off of super hero comics and shows. His favorite past time was spending Saturday morning watching Superman cartoons.

It was awe-inspiring to watch someone fly across the sky, defying physics simply because they could (or were in radioactive goo, from another planet, or given powers- all of them seemed to have the same result). Having powers like that was a fantasy Alfred loved to indulge in as a child. When he was five, he had even tried to jump off his old apartment roof in an attempt to fly. Luckily his father had caught him before he jumped (they had lived on the tenth floor) and made him promise not to try it again.

But their powers weren't the reason why Alfred loved superheroes. It was what they did with them.

Instead of using their powers for themselves, they used it to help those in danger. They didn't even get paid! Some superheroes, like Spiderman, were even put down for doing what they did! But none of them cared. They just kept helping those in need, without asking for anything in return.

Superheroes had been and always would be his biggest role models. Whenever Alfred didn't know what to do, he just imagined what any of his heroes would do in his situation.

That was why an image of Superman blocking a group if citizens from an impending rocket was the first thing that came into Alfred's mind when the monster began charging right for England.

Heroes always put themselves in danger before others!

There was really only one course of action for this situation in Alfred's mind. He didn't even think about the fact that, since this was of course all a dream, he couldn't really get hurt. All he knew was that there was no way he was going to run away and let England get skewered.

And so, when England just stood there as the monster's horns (more like spikes) came closer and closer to running him through, Alfred didn't hesitate.

He ran straight for England. Alfred hadn't exactly been far away from England when the monster appeared, but the monster was much closer. And was moving fast.

So even though Alfred was only about two feet away from reaching England, he was afraid he wouldn't make it in time.

Why wasn't England moving out of the way?

Alfred was starting to get a little desperate. When he was only one foot away, and the monster's horns were uncomfortable close to skewering England like a shish-kabob, Alfred made a jump for it.

He grabbed England with both arms and used the momentum from the jump to move the both of them out of the monster's path. They landed on the ground with a thud, and Alfred felt a string of pain in his right cheek along with his protesting back (which had felt the brunt of the fall). He ignored all the pain however, to quickly check to see that England was alright.

"You idiot!" England's angry voice caused Alfred to do a small victory dance in his head. First part of Operation: Save England was a success! "I was just about to-"

"You can thank me later." Alfred said, giving England his brightest hero smile as he got up from the ground. The fight wasn't over yet.

The monster wasn't very bright. It had kept on charging for a few moments even after Alfred had moved England out of the way, and only just stopped. It turned around, even angrier now that its target had moved, and steam (literally!) came out of its nose as it gave an angry snort.

Alfred only had a few seconds before the monster would begin charging again. He had to act fast.

He ran away from where England was starting to get back up, to a spot a few ways away. There would be no point in saving England if the monster ended up running him over while they fought!

The monster looked confused, as if trying to decide whether or not attack Alfred or England. Good. It was time to help it make up its mind.

"Hey, you! Ugly! You want some of this?" Alfred yelled, waving his arms up and down to get the monster's attention. It reacted just as he hoped, its red eyes narrowing as it began charging towards him.

There was more steam coming from the creature's nose, now followed by small sparks of flame. It was breathing fire now?

The monster was only a few feet away from him when Alfred realized he didn't know what he was going to do now. He hadn't thought that far.

"Uh-oh…" Alfred probably should have planned this through better.

The monster took a deep breath and snorted a fire ball towards him. Alfred realized there was no way for him to get away in time and tensed himself for the impact.

A wall of flame burst before his eyes, but Alfred didn't feel any pain. The flames looked as if they hit an invisible wall, staying a good ten inches away from Alfred. The fire died away, and the charging monster came back into view.

But the monster fell back as if electrocuted, as it too hit the invisible wall. And it was a wall. Now that the fire was gone, Alfred could see the shimmering air where the wall stood.

"Move you idiot! The barrier won't last for long!" England's voice called out, and Alfred realized where the wall had come from.

England was standing on top of a shining circle, surrounded by a green aura that formed his own personal tornado. If Alfred looked closely, he could see a sheen of the same green on the invisible wall (or barrier or whatever England had called it).

"I said move!" England yelled again.

"I can't just let you get killed!" Alfred replied, still not moving from his spot. Now that Alfred had more time, he was starting to work up a plan. The monster was starting to get up, still looking slightly dazed, and the barrier looked as if it was starting to disappear. Alfred's eyes looked around the area, looking for anything he could use as an impromptu weapon.

"America-You dolt! You don't have anything! I have my magic, I can handle this on my own! Now get out of my way!"

The barrier fully broke down, and Alfred listened to England and moved.

But he had no intention of leaving the fight so soon. It didn't matter what England said, Alfred wasn't just going to leave him here to fight by himself.

Alfred hadn't known him that long, but he knew that heroes didn't leave others behind. Or sit by and do nothing while someone else did all the fighting for them.

The monster groaned in pain as England sent a giant ice ball into its side. But even though the beast looked slightly pained by the attack, it only barely slowed down its stride towards England. England noticed this, and began sending even more attacks. None of them seemed to affect the monster for very long.

A gnawing worry began to eat as Alfred as the monster kept closing the distance between them. England's sweater vest didn't look like it could stand a blow from those huge horns. Alfred could tell England was thinking the same thing, as his attacks seemed to be getting more desperate.

With new found enthusiasm Alfred tried to look even faster for something, anything, he could use to help fight.

Alfred's eyes passed again over a tree a little ways a way, when an idea struck him. There was only a slight chance…but Alfred was getting desperate. He began to run towards the tree, hoping he would make it in time.

* * *

Why the hell wasn't the monster down yet?

Arthur took another step back while simultaneously sending another fireball. Not even that seemed to slow it down. Arthur had tried nearly everything- all of his elemental and energy attacks- and none of it was working.

And even worse, Arthur could feel his magic slipping away. That shouldn't be happening. None of this should be happening. Only very huge spells, the kinds he needed to prepare for beforehand, were supposed to tire him out like this.

Arthur summoned a lightning bolt to strike the monster, and cursed when it only caused him to flinch.

What was happening? Arthur was a powerful wizard! He should have taken down this thing twelve attacks ago!

The monster was moving even closer now, so close that he could feel the heat as the beast prepared for another fire attack (which he braced himself for by putting up yet another barrier).

It worked, but the monster was getting close enough for a physical attack. One that Arthur knew he was not prepared for.

He was running out of options. His magic, for reasons he didn't understand, was weakening. He didn't have any kind of protective gear, just the simple outfit that he usually wore in Abaddon. Arthur rarely wore armor or anything of the sort. He hardly ever fought with monsters, only occasionally when getting a job with the hunters, and tended to stay inside Abaddon's borders (which were free of monsters and such things).

Which was another thing. Why was there a monster here in the first place?

Arthur knew China's house was close to edge of Abaddon's border, close to the area where monsters and other such things roamed freely, but they were still well enough inside the area where Arthur knew the guards regularly patrolled. He wouldn't have taken America to this place if he thought it wasn't safe.

At least America was out of the way now. He had finally listened to him, Arthur could see him running away out of the corner of his eye. But he barely had any time to clearly see where America was going, seeing as he had to keep his attention on the advancing monster. Arthur could only hope that America was running towards China or someone else who could help.

At least Arthur could concentrate a little more now that America was out of his hair. He knew the boy was only trying to help, but he had messed up Arthur's original spell!

When the monster had first appeared, Arthur had remembered that had he still had some leftover herbs from the job he did with Turkey. Knowing that he had to protect America (who he was still in charge of) and didn't have any armor on, he had decided to try a larger spell that would banish the monster away.

The spell required for him to wait until the monster was close enough for him to fling the herbs on it, but the idiot had pushed him out of the way before he was able to do so.

Now Arthur didn't have the herbs, or the magic, to do such a spell.

The monster was very close now, and the glint in its red eyes told Arthur that it knew it had him cornered. There was little Arthur could do now. His magic was almost gone, and there was no way his sweater vest (even with the few defense charms he had out on it) would hold up against the monster's horns.

Arthur briefly entertained the thought of running away, but he knew there was no way he would be able to outrun the beast once it started charging.

Still, it was all he had left. So Arthur set himself in a running stance hoping that, if the monster started charging and he was able to get out of the way, he would have some time to run before it changed its course and came after him.

But suddenly the monster grunted in pain and as it was pushed roughly to the side, something having hit it.

The monster moved its attention away from Arthur and towards whatever had hit it, giving Arthur enough time to widen the distance between the two of them. He would have run away, if he didn't have a sick feeling of who had hit the beast in the first place. But there was no way. There was no way he was strong enough to hurt the monster like that….

"Take that! The hero has arrived!"

But his feelings were proved right. Arthur turned to see him, America, standing there with a huge smile on his face. In his hands was a large, but partially broken, tree branch.

Splintered wood flew through the air as America hit the monster again. The tree branch was barely a stump now, the monster's steel scales having broken most of it on impact. But impossibly (because America was new and he was using a bloody stick for goodness sakes) the monster seemed injured from the attack.

Arthur was caught between relieve and horror. Relieve because he was now out of the monster's way, and that _something _was finally hurting the damn thing. And horror because, well, _America _was fighting it with a toothpick!

Which was what the branch now resembled, America having hit it against the monster's steel hide about three times.

America dropped the branch (or what was left of it) and looked ready to try and tackle the monster. There was no way this was going to end well. Especially since the monster looked ready to do another fire attack. And Arthur didn't know if he had enough magic left to block it.

"Get out of there you idiot!" Arthur yelled, catching America's attention. It was then that America seemed to finally saw the steam coming from the monster's snout, and he did the sensible thing. He ran.

America ran towards Arthur, barely avoiding the stream of orange fire that flew out behind him.

"Ow! England, what do we do now? Damn, that hurt." America hadn't been able to totally avoid the flames, the smell of burning hair coming from the back of his head. Luckily his hair was only slightly singed, though Arthur couldn't get a clear look at the back of his neck. But he figured he was alright, since America wasn't complaining.

Arthur would have reprimanded America for his behavior, but there was no time. They had to get away from the monster, its attention on the both of them now. Arthur could yell at him later.

"We got to get out of here." Arthur said, giving the signal for America to follow him. They were both a ways away from the monster, and there was a slight chance they would be able to run before it started charging. A small chance, but still a chance.

However, before either of them could start running, a burst of red and orange sparks came from behind the monster, causing it to fall down.

As soon as the monster hit the ground, a small dark-haired man appeared and slammed a thin white paper with strange markings on it, which Arthur recognized as a type of banishing paper, onto the monsters forehead. With a final groan, the monster faded out of sight.

The man stood up and brushed of his clothes, turning towards them with a blank expression.

"You are looking for China?" He said, his question sounding more like a statement.

"Wow! That was cool! Were those fireworks or something? Who are you?" America said, asking about the sparks he had seen earlier, while running up to him with a curious look on his face.

"Hong Kong." Arthur acknowledged the man with a nod, which was returned with a blink. "Yes, we are looking for China." Arthur answered his question, relieve coming into his voice now that the monster was gone.

Hong Kong nodded. "Then I will take you to him. Follow."

Hong Kong began a brisk walk towards the direction of China's house, and America and Arthur quickly followed.

"Thanks for saving us! Man, for a second there, I thought we were done for!" America said, not minding that Hong Kong didn't answer his question.

Hong Kong nodded. "China sensed something near here and sent me to investigate. He's been very careful lately, ever since Taiwan disappeared."

"Who? Someone disappeared?" America asked.

"I'll tell you later." Arthur said before turning to Hong Kong. "You have some information about what happened to Taiwan?"

"China will tell you what he wants to tell you." Hong Kong said, the answer not really revealing anything. That was how it was with Hong Kong, with anyone a part of China's group really.

China was perhaps the only person in Abaddon who liked to mentor new kids. It was almost as if he actively searched for them. Any newcomer from Asia was almost guaranteed to be mentored by him. Arthur didn't understand it, but China enjoyed acting like a sort of big brother to (most of) his charges.

And those he mentored, like Hong Kong, usually stayed with him even after they had learned. Some, like Japan, went there own way. But most preferred to live with China in his large house.

It wasn't hard to see why. China was very powerful, and knew many things. There was a rumor that he was the person who had been visiting Abaddon the longest, but Arthur didn't really believe it. China didn't look that old, he was simply very knowledgeable.

Taiwan, as far as Arthur knew, was one of China's old charges that had decided to stay. Which meant China would probably have information on her disappearance.

Arthur felt happy with his decision to come. Not only would he get this whole curse business out of the way, but he could also get more information on the disappearances.

"Are we there yet?" America asked, starting the whole thing up again. Really, didn't he have any patience?

"It's only been five minutes!" Arthur said, his annoyance starting to show.

"I know, but what if we run into another of those monsters again?" America asked, and Arthur felt the annoyance fade away.

"…We're almost there." Arthur said, trying his best to reassure him. Having seen a monster so early after coming to Abaddon most have been shocking. It was amazing that America had been able to do what he did.

Not only did he push Arthur out of the monster's way (he really couldn't expect America to know what he had been doing), but he had also come back to fight the monster when he had the chance to run away.

Fighting back with a tree branch of all things? Sure it was very stupid, but also very brave…It was amazing it had worked at all. It was just wood, and the monster had had steel scales. America must be incredibly strong, seeing as he was able to even injure the beast. It was almost as if… no. That was impossible.

Sure, some people who came to Abaddon had two gifts. Some even had multiple gifts, like China (Arthur still didn't know all the powers he had). But when that happened one gift was usually strong while the others were weaker, or all their gifts were of average power.

America had a cursing power. A powerful one, seeing as he was able to curse Arthur in such a way on his first night in Abaddon. But if he was strong enough to hurt a steel scaled monster with a branch… No. Having two incredibly strong gifts was impossible.

A horrible possibility was starting to creep into Arthur's mind. He refused to believe it. If it were true…

"We are here." Hong Kong announced, jolting Arthur from his thoughts.

Before them was China's house, looking more like a Buddhist temple then a home.

"Cool!" America said, running inside before Arthur or Hong Kong could even move. Arthur was thankful that none of his shoes had fit America, and that he had been walking barefoot (as he had been when he fell asleep). China preferred people to take of their shoes when entering his house, and Arthur couldn't afford to offend him when they so needed his help.

He followed America inside (after taking off his shoes), and Hong Kong lead them into the main room.

Inside was China, sitting down and eating with a few others. Arthur thought he recognized Vietnam and Tibet.

Tibet excused himself quietly when he saw them entering, deciding to give them privacy to talk. Hong Kong followed, though Arthur guessed it was more out of boredom then courtesy. Vietnam didn't bother to leaving, instead standing up leaning against the nearest wall, her eyes glaring at them with clear distrust.

"Ah! You finally arrived aru! I've been waiting! Do you want some food?" China asked as he stood up, smiling as he offered them dumplings.

Arthur didn't bother asking how China knew he was coming. He could never tell if China was pretending to know or if he just kept tabs on everyone. It was hard to tell with China.

"No, no thank you." Arthur said, but America nodded and accepted the plate of food gratefully.

"Aru? Who are you? A newcomer?" China asked America, who had already started to eat the dumplings.

"Ymmheah" America said, barely coherent over his chewing. Arthur gave him a look, and he swallowed before talking again. "I'm America!"

"Oh." China said with a bit of disapproval. America didn't seem to notice, too caught up in eating again.

"We've come to ask you a favor." Arthur said, gaining China's attention.

"A favor aru? What kind of favor?" China asked, his voice both wary and curious.

"I need you to activate his gift." Arthur stated, pointing towards America (who had finished the dumpling and was now eyeing the dim sum that China had been eating).

"It will cost you." China said, his business face appearing.

"You owe me. Remember?" Arthur responded.

"Aiyah! That was ages ago! And it didn't work at all! South Korea came back even after that! And I had to take care of him when he was in that state! It was more troublesome then helpful." China protested.

"I don't care. You still asked me to do it, and I did it. It doesn't matter what the results were!" Arthur said, trying to sound calm. "Besides, it's important."

"Hmph. Fine, aru. But what's the reason? Can't you just let the gift develop naturally?" China asked, still sounded slightly annoyed.

Arthur had decided before to tell China the reason. While he didn't particularly trust the man, he might be able to help more if he knew the full story. He looked over at Vietnam, wondering if he should tell the story while she was still in the room. But she glared at him, and Arthur realized there was no way she was going to leave and that he might as well just tell the story.

"This idiot cursed me the other night. I haven't been able to leave Abaddon since, and he isn't powerful enough yet to undo it. I was hoping he would be able to after you activate it." Arthur explained, looking towards America. He stopped looking at the food and stared at his feet, looking slightly guilty.

The frustration he felt remembering his situation melted away at the look, and he felt an urge to tell America it wasn't his fault. Which was ridiculous, because it was his fault. Even if it was an accident…

Arthur looked back at China, whose face had turned serious.

"I see." China said, nodding. "I will help you then. It is better for you not to be stuck here during such a time, especially someone like you."

Arthur thought he saw Vietnam tense in the corner of his eye, but she said nothing.

"Thank you." Arthur said, feeling relieved that China was going to help. He would finally be able to wake up again! Even if it was around night time in London now…

"So…how does this work?" America asked.

"Come here." China said, waving America near him.

America walked towards him, and stopped when they were standing close together. China then placed his right hand on America's forehead, and began to mutter under his breath.

A sky blue aura began to appear around America, glowing softly. It grew brighter and brighter as China continued chanting. China's chanting grew softer until it finally stopped, and the aura slowly faded away.

China stepped away from America, a frown on his face.

"Did it work?" Arthur asked, not liking the look China was wearing.

"Yes. I activated his gift." China said, though Arthur could tell there was something he wasn't saying. He just hoped that it wasn't what Arthur had been fearing ever since America had fought the monster.

"Man, I feel awesome!" America said, looking at his hands. "Do you want me to try and reverse it now England?" America turned to him, a hopeful look on his face.

Arthur looked to China, who stayed silent. Well, he could ask what was wrong _after_ the curse was reversed. That was his priority after all.

"Yes. You can try now." Arthur said, and America smiled wide.

"I'll totally do it this time! Just watch!" America's enthusiasm was contagious, and Arthur felt himself smile a bit at the thought that he would be home soon. He loved visiting Abaddon, but he still had his real life to live.

America grew silent as he concentrated hard on Arthur. It was a bit unnerving, having those eyes stare at him unblinkingly. His bright blue eyes were visible even behind his glasses, and it felt as if America was staring right through him.

"Did it work?" America asked after a while, slightly startling him.

But Arthur could still feel the curse. It felt as if there was a shadow over him at all times, keeping him anchored do this place. And it hadn't left.

"…No." Arthur said, horror starting to creep into his stomach. This was bad. This was really bad.

"It's just as I feared." China spoke up. "This boy does not have a cursing power. Or any magic at that."

It was what Arthur had been hoping wasn't true.

"It's his strength. That's what's been strengthened, hasn't it?" Arthur said, knowing it was already true. It was why America had been able to fight the monster. No one with normal strength could have injured it like that with just a tree branch.

"What do you mean?" America said, looking both confused and worried. "I thought England couldn't wake up because I cursed him! Does…does that mean he's stuck here?"

Arthur would have expected America to be more excited. On the way to China's house, before they had been attacked, America had told him how much he loved super heroes with super strength (it had been brought up when the fought about who was better, Harry Potter or Superman). The fact that he was more worried about Arthur being stuck, even though he had only known him for about four hours, caused a warm feeling to swell in his chest.

"For now, I'm afraid." China said, his voice growing somber.

"Then who cursed me? I know it's a curse…and it happened when I met America. Who else could have done it?" Arthur said, the severity of the situation starting to sink in.

"I don't know aru."

If America hadn't been the one to curse him, then Arthur had no idea how to break it. Or when he would be able to wake up again. What would happen?

Arthur only had about twelve hours before Peter would wonder why he hadn't woken up. And then what? Would he call their brothers? The police? What if he never woke up?

"Taiwan couldn't sleep either." Vietnam suddenly spoke, startling all three of them. "I was out hunting with her, and she was complaining. She said she wasn't able to fall asleep in Abaddon…that she was supposed to be awake already. It was only by a few hours, not that strange but…it was the day she disappeared."

"What aru? Why didn't you tell me this?" China asked, surprised by Vietnam's statement.

"I didn't think it was important…but if he can't wake up either, then there might be a connection. You were attacked by a monster on the way here, correct? Was there anything strange about it?" Vietnam asked, her voice clear and steady. It sounded as if she already knew the answer to her own question.

"Yes." Arthur answered, starting to see where Vietnam was heading. "My magic weakened the more I fought it."

Vietnam nodded. "I've been suspecting something like that. Both Norway and Taiwan were capable of taking down any beast they could have run into."

"So you believe that monsters attacked both Norway and Taiwan before they disappeared?" Arthur didn't like what all of this was implying. But if gaining more information could help him wake up again, then he knew he had to do whatever he could to find out more.

"Yes." This time it was China who answered. "We found out from Denmark. He was with Norway when two monsters attacked. They ended up getting separated while fighting. According to Denmark, halfway through the fight his monster disappeared, and when he went to look for Norway, he was nowhere to be found."

"_I_ found that out from Denmark." Vietnam coldly corrected. "You have done nothing to look for Taiwan."

"You know that is not true." China said, causing Vietnam to direct her glare towards him.

"What? Oh please enlighten me. What have you done? It seems as if I'm the only one who even cares about trying to find her. I thought you would have some information when I came here today- but you know even less then me. At least I am out there, looking for her." Vietnam said, her icy voice never rising to a yell. Her words were even, but the hostility behind them was clear.

"Vietnam…We all miss her. We're trying our best to find her. There is not much we can do." China tried to reason with her, but she was not listening.

"Sitting here and eating will not find her." Vietnam snapped. "I'm going to talk to Denmark. If Norway could not sleep either…then England is next. And we will be closer to finding Taiwan."

Vietnam walked out of the room, but not before turning to Arthur. "You. I will be watching you." She left, leaving behind a pregnant silence.

"…Wait. I'm really confused." America was the first one to speak. "So there's people disappearing? And England's next? What does this have to do with him not being able to wake up? And what was that chick's problem?"

China sighed, his fight with Vietnam having obviously worn him out. "Vietnam has taken Taiwan's absence the hardest. They were very close…and I believe that Vietnam blames herself for her disappearance. That being said, she does not understand that these things take time. She is too impatient. I have already sent someone from the real world to check Taiwan's residence to see if she if perhaps there, and somehow unable to return to Abaddon. But it will take a few more days before my colleague reaches the area, and Vietnam does not want to wait."

"Oh. But why are people disappearing in the first place?" America asked.

"That I do not know. All the information we have, besides what I have already told you, is that people with powerful magical abilities are going missing."

China paused, turning towards Arthur before continuing. "If you are truly stuck in this world, then you must be careful. You should stay closely inside Abaddon's borders, where it is still safe, until you have figured a way to return home."

Arthur nodded wearily. This whole situation was much worse then what he had first thought. But at least he had a bit of an idea of what to do next. He still had the same goals as he did before he came to China's house. He still had to find out what was happening to the disappearing wizards, it was just that he now had a much more personal stake in them.

Not to mention that he still had to train America. Oh joy. Even with all of this happening, the boy was still his responsibility.

At least his strength could come in handy. It was probably best now that Arthur wasn't traveling alone. Not because he was lonely mind you. It was simply a good idea to have someone non-magical, someone who could fight any monsters Arthur might run into, around.

"You know, this is one of the most confusing dreams I've ever had." America said, "Is it almost done yet?"

Both Arthur and China decided to ignore him.

"I'll have Hong Kong walk you home." China said, trying to subtly say that he wanted the two of them out of his house.

"No! Ah…that's fine. He can just accompany us to the inner part of Abaddon." Arthur said. Although he did not want to risk running into another monster, he didn't exactly want to have Hong Kong near his house. He was notorious for playing "pranks" that resulting in things catching on fire, and Arthur didn't want to rebuild part of his kitchen (again).

China agreed, and Hong Kong led both him and America out of the house.

Arthur spent half of the walk thinking about what to do next, and the other half listening to America tell Hong Kong increasingly horrible jokes in an attempt to make him smile (or make any kind of facial expression). Predictably, none of the jokes changed the blank expression on Hong Kong's face. When they reached the inner part of Abaddon, Hong Kong left them with a curt and polite goodbye.

Between the jokes and his worrying, by the time it was just him and America, Arthur already had a large headache.

"You should try to relax." America said, giving Arthur a small smile.

"Relax? How am I supposed to relax? I'm stuck in this place for who knows how long…and apparently some monsters- who, by the way, I can't fight- are after me! How am I supposed to relax?" Arthur yelled, letting out all his frustration about his situation.

"Well…that China dude said you were safe in this area. So just don't go where you aren't supposed to. And you like this place, right?"

"…Yes. I wouldn't come here if I didn't." Arthur answered hesitantly.

"What's the problem then? The way I see it, you got it made! You don't have to go to school, don't have to do any work, and you can do magic here! You're basically taking a magical vacation." America said, smiling wide.

"I suppose." Arthur said, slightly lightening up. At least he was getting a break from having to deal with Peter and his brothers, and he didn't have to do any essays or the like for college. Sure, there was the whole problem with what would happen to his real body while he was stuck here, but there wasn't anything he could do about that. And he was obviously still alive, and would continue to live as long as he didn't run into anything to dangerous.

"Besides!" America continued, "This isn't real anyways!" He gave a grin as he put both hands behind his head, looking completely carefree.

Arthur felt ready to punch him (how dare he act as if his problems weren't real!) when a look a pain flashed across America's face.

"Ow!" He said, quickly removing his hands away from the back of his neck. It was then that Arthur remembered how close America was to the monster's last fire attack, and how his hair had been singed. He couldn't have walked away from that without being a bit burnt…

"Stop. Let me see that." Arthur commanded, stopping in his tracks.

America stopped his walking as well, but shook his head. "Nah, it's nothing. I'm fine!"

"I don't believe you." Arthur wasn't that much shorter then America, and when he walked behind him he could clearly see the burnt area on the back of his neck. It wasn't a serious burn, but it definitely didn't look painless. The skin was pink and swollen, with blisters already starting to form.

"Why didn't you tell me you were hurt?" Arthur asked, concern creeping into his voice.

"It's nothing, really." America insisted.

"This is not nothing!" Arthur gingerly pressed a finger to the burnt area, resulting in a hiss of pain from America.

"Come now, I have some burn ointment back at my house." Arthur said, entering into maternal mode. He grabbed America's hand without thinking, and led him for the remaining walk to the house.

He took America back up into his bedroom and placed him on the bed with a firm grip.

"Stay right there. The ointment is somewhere in here." Arthur said, turning to look inside his dresser.

"You seriously don't have to do this." America sounded embarrassed, but Arthur refused to simply ignore the wound.

"Nonsense. Ah, here it is!" Arthur held up the small jar filled with burn ointment, along with a small washcloth, victoriously. He unscrewed the lid and placed a handful of the green herbal paste onto his hand.

"This should help it heal, and it will also help with the pain." Arthur explained, "Now hold still."

"I can put it on myself." America protested, but Arthur shook his head.

"No, you won't be able to spread it properly. And stop fidgeting." America relented, and Arthur sat behind him on the bed.

Arthur spread the ointment on the burn, careful not to press too hard. He saw America clench his fists, but he didn't complain. America seemed to relax after a bit, letting Arthur know that the medicine was working.

"…It feels better." America said quietly, once Arthur had spread the ointment on evenly.

"Good." Arthur sat up from the bed once he was finished, wiping his hands on the washcloth. "We should probably clean that cut on your cheek while we're at it."

"Huh?" America said, his hand coming up to the small cut on his left cheek. It wasn't deep, and had stopped bleeding a while ago, but it was dirty. "I forgot about this."

"Well, we don't want it getting infected now, do we?" Arthur said, giving a small smile. He remembered seeing America get it after he had pushed him away from the monster.

Arthur was less angry now that the monster was gone (they had turned out fine even though Arthur's original spell was ruined. Not to mention that it probably wouldn't have worked anyway, seeing as it wasn't that affected by any of his other spells) and Arthur was slightly touched that America had been so willing to help him. Even if he still thought this was all a dream, it was still brave.

Not that Arthur would tell him that. He had a feeling it would go straight to the idiot's head.

"I'm going to go wet the cloth. I'll be right back, alright?" Arthur said, beginning to leave the room to walk towards his bathroom (which contained the only sink in the house).

"Hey, England?" America yelled before Arthur was out of the door. "…Thanks."

Arthur gave a curt nod and hurried out of the room, careful to hide his reddening face. It was just hot in there, is all!

After wetting the cloth, and making sure his face was its normal color, Arthur returned to find America fast asleep on his bed. He had fallen to his side, his arm uncomfortable trapped under his body.

"Can you not take care of yourself?" Arthur said, not expecting him to answer.

America snored in response.

Arthur gave a small sigh and moved America so that he was lying comfortably on his back. Figuring he might as well, Arthur cleaned the cut on America's cheek and silently hoped that the idiot wouldn't end up drooling on his pillow.

* * *

Yay! Finally got this up! This was fun to write. And this won't be the last we see of Vietnam or China...but we will be seeing a lot of countries still. Man, this story is ending up so much longer then I orginally planned XD

And, here's the IMPORTANT NEWS: I'm leaving for my school's Japan Exchange on Wenseday! For three weeks! Without internet... yeah. So the story won't be updated until I get back. I'm planning on trying to update by at least November 15th or around there. While it does mean there won't be updates for a while, the trip might end up being a good thing. It will give me time to create a more detailed plan for the story (I already know what's going to happen, but this will help me plan out each chapter better and be able to get them out faster).

So, I'm really really sorry guys. But don't worry! The story will be started again as soon as I get back! And hey, at least there isn't a cliffhanger like last time, right? XD

Thank you again for all everyone who has read, reviewed, alerted, and/or favorite this story. I'm so happy that so many people are enjoying it. Here's to hoping you guys will stick around!


	5. Chapter 5

Hi guys! I'm back from Japan! Well, I've been back for about a week now, but still. Thank you to everyone who wished me a good trip, I had a lot of fun! And a big thank you to everyone who has reviewed, alerted, and favorites me and this story. Seriously, you guys are amazing.

And now, to explain why this is slightly late. Life basically kicked me in the ass as soon as I got back. Apparently no one bothered to tell me that finals where that week AND I had to write 5-7 research logs or else I wouldn't GRADUATE. Yeah. I was just a smidge angry. Not to mention I ended up getting horrible jet lag. BUT ANYWAYS, I managed to do everything and am now back!

And I even have good news! I spent some time on this trip making a more detailed outline of this story! This story is now planned all the way up to Chapter Seventeen. Yeah, we're in for a bit of a long haul guys. Hopefully you'll all enjoy the ride! And here, without further ado, is Chapter five!

* * *

"Hey! Loser! I'm home!"

Peter waited by the door, listening for his brother's reply. Peter had come home earlier then expected (having planned to eat dinner over at his friend's house. But Wy and her dad had, at the last minute, remembered some art exhibit they had planned to go. Since they had already bought their tickets and Peter didn't want to make them buy another for him (or look at some lame paintings), he decided to just go home.

But standing by the door, waiting for his brother to acknowledge his return, a feeling of dread swept over him. It was five pm. Which meant that Arthur was home, and probably already cooking dinner.

Peter waiting quietly for his brother's singsong call of "Come here~" that would seal his fate. It would be the tell-tale sign that he was about to ingest something horrible.

But nothing came. The apartment was completely silent, save for the constant ticking of the living room clock.

Well that was weird.

Peter was always greeted, in some way, whenever he came home. Usually it was a demanding "What took you so long?" or a sarcastic "Oh, wonderful.", or even the rare "How was your day?". So it was slightly strange to be greeted by silence.

Before Peter could conjure up images of a robbing gone wrong or an alien abduction, logic came back to him. Arthur was probably running late from work. Or on another one of his drunken rampages. Either way, it meant the same thing.

Peter had the whole apartment to himself. Awesome.

"Time to play some video games!"

Peter ran towards their living room, too excited to hear the soft snoring coming from his brother's room.

* * *

Arthur couldn't put it off any longer. He had to see Francis.

After America had fallen asleep (or rather, woken up in the real world) Arthur had admitted to himself that he would have to talk to the pervert eventually. They had both agreed to exchange information about the strange things that were happening in Abaddon, and Arthur had a very bad feeling that his current condition was definitely not normal. Especially if, as Vietnam seemed to think, it was connected to the recent disappearances.

If that were true, telling Francis about his predicament was probably the best next step. Even if the idea of the pervert knowing he was totally vulnerable in the real world _did_ make him sick to his stomach. Especially since he knew where Arthur lived.

Shivering at the horrible mental images that thought brought up, Arthur pushed away his doubts. He would have to tell Francis. The frog had been the one to inform him of the problem in the first place, and he always seemed to contain the most current information. Arthur had to learn as much as he could about his situation if he had any hope of waking up again.

But even then, the thought of seeing Francis when he was in such a helpless state made Arthur want to punch someone.

Which was why, after leaving his house (and putting an extra protection spell on it to protect the sleeping idiot inside), Arthur did not immediately head towards Francis' shop.

He did, however, head towards a restaurant that was located on the outskirts of the marketplace.

It wasn't really something Arthur could explain himself, but somehow one could eat in Abaddon. It worked just as it did in the real world. If one got hungry in Abaddon (usually caused by overusing their energy somehow or not having enough to eat in the real world) they could buy food and eat it.

And it was all real food, just like in the real world. Well, it did taste slightly different, seeing as the meats came from monsters (taken down from hunters) and the other food from Abaddon's natural resources. But it still tasted similarly to, and did the same job as, food one might find when they were awake.

Which was very convenient for him at the moment. Arthur had no idea how long he could be stuck in Abaddon, and not being able to eat food might have proven fatal. At least he would be able to keep his (still sleeping) body alive while he was stuck here.

Not knowing exactly where to start (he rarely ate in Abaddon), he decided to head towards a restaurant owned by the Italy brothers. He had heard good things about their food, and Italian was one of his favorites.

Luckily for Arthur it was still around morning in most of Italy, which meant that the restaurant was open.

The rumors he had heard about the food turned out to be true, as he quietly devoured his dinner (if he was still going on London's time).

It was mostly quiet, seeing as the more talkative of the Italys was currently cooking dishes back in the kitchen. The other, more grumpy, Italy was the one serving his food. He didn't say much to Arthur, but he supposed that wasn't very strange. Neither of the Italys really talked to him that much. In fact, if Arthur didn't know any better, it was almost as if they were scared of him. Though he couldn't imagine why.

But the lack of talking was fine with him. Arthur had too much to think about while he waited for Francis to arrive in Abaddon.

First, and most importantly, was the fact that he was stuck here. And the likelihood that it was connected to whatever was happening in the city.

And, of course, there was the new charge he had to take care of. He was stuck with America now and, even though it turned out the boy didn't have anything to do with his curse, he would still have to be in charge of him. But somehow (he didn't really understand it himself really) the idea of showing America around wasn't as horrible a thought to him as it was before.

Even if the git was still a pain in the ass.

But America wasn't his main concern at the moment. Arthur still had a least several hours before that idiot would be back in Abaddon. Which gave him plenty of time to see Francis.

Arthur finished his meal and paid the grumpy looking Italy (was he the South one or the North one? He could never keep them straight). He had given Francis plenty of time to get to Abaddon and, as long as the frog hadn't taken some stranger into his bed again, he should have already fallen asleep and be in his shop by now.

It was a short walk to Francis' armor shop and, luckily, Arthur could see the man working away. Not very hard mind you, Francis was always very relaxed and careless (in Arthur's opinion) with his work, but Arthur was too concerned with talking to the man to spend too much time criticizing him.

"France." Arthur decided to make this as quick and painless as possible.

"Yes, dear?" France turned, that awful smile on his face. "You finally came to see me? Where were you all day? I thought we might get a bit to drink but, ah, you did not answer your door. Not that I mind-I met a lovely girl at the bar. But still, are you avoiding me? This is the second time in a row! Why must you deny me the privilege of seeing that scowling face of yours~"

"Oh, haha. Very funny." Arthur replied. He had only been in the shop for a few seconds and already he wanted to punch the frog in the face. "There's something I have to talk to you about."

"It's no fun when you don't yell, you know." Francis said, going back to the needlework he had been doing before Arthur came in. "What is it you wish to discuss?"

"Something's happened." Arthur said, glancing around to the few people who were currently shopping around the store. "Perhaps we can talk about it in private?" He hoped that Francis would get the hint, and send them someplace where no one else could eavesdrop.

"Ah, I see. Away from any prying eyes, no? Follow me then. I'm sure my beautiful customers will be alright waiting for a moment or two. There are things for us to speak of."

Francis led him into the same small and secluded room he had brought him before. Part of Arthur's stomach churned at seeing the familiar sight. When he had been here last, he had still been able to wake up in the real world.

"Now what was it you wanted to tell me? It was good that you came actually, I have a few things to tell you as well." Francis said, motioning for Arthur to sit in one of the two chairs in the room.

Arthur sat down, already weary from all the things that had happened to him in such a short time. He fought back the urge to put his head in his hands. "You tell your information first. It can't be any worse then mine."

"If you insist." Francis replied, taking the remaining chair. "Well, I'll get straight to the point then. Four more people have gone missing."

"You're kidding." Arthur said, shock and disbelief mixing into his voice. How could four people have disappeared in such a short time? "Who?"

"I don't have all the names yet, but I know for a fact that Netherlands and Cambodia are gone."

"Those two? But they're huge!"

This was starting to feel like a nightmare. Yes, Netherlands and Cambodia mainly used magic in battles, but they also used regular weapons in battle just as often. They were easily strong enough to fight against something, without their magic, if they had to. Whatever they were fighting against had to have been abnormally strong.

But that didn't make sense.

If what was really making people disappear were monsters like the ones he had fought earlier, then something wasn't adding up. The monster that Arthur had fought didn't seem to be any stronger then a regular monster. Sure, it would have probably killed Arthur if the battle hadn't been interrupted, but a wizard used to physical fighting like Netherlands or Cambodia should have been able to take it on.

After all, America had been able to injure it with just a stick. And Arthur highly doubted he was _that _strong after just one day in Abaddon…

"Yes. The number of disappearances are rising quickly. For people like us, it nearly makes one want to simply cut our losses and leave, no?" Francis commented wearily.

Francis seemed to wait for Arthur's reply, but moved on when he failed to say anything.

"Either way, these are troubled times my friend. You should be careful. You never know when you might become the next target."

"I am." Arthur spit out, deciding to just tell Francis and get everything over with. Though it wasn't the graceful confession he had been aiming towards. But it would have to do.

"Huh?" Francis asked, not understanding what Arthur had said, with the way he had half mumbled the statement.

"I- Goddamnit- a monster attacked me today! And I couldn't do anything!" Arthur yelled out, frustrated by the whole situation.

Francis' face, for once, looked genuinely shocked. "What?"

Arthur took a deep breath before he began explaining. It wouldn't do him any good if he got too upset to tell Francis anything.

"I was outside the city, not very far, with-" Arthur hadn't thought about whether or not he should tell Francis about America, but he decided to not say anything about him (for now) as it would only lead to more questions he didn't feel like answering. "-well, I was out on business, and a monster appeared out of nowhere. It-it attacked me. At first I was fighting back well enough but…it was almost as if it was draining my magic from me. By the time it got me cornered…I-I was useless. I don't know what would have happened if Hong Kong hadn't showed up at the last second."

Silence rested in the small room as Francis paused in thought.

"….A monster you say? Was it like a serpent?" He finally asked.

"No. It resembled more of a boar."

"…I see. Denmark said that he and Norway were attacked by two serpents. But perhaps there are more then one type of monster at the cause of this. If this really has to do with the disappearances."

"Well what else could it bloody be? Since when do monsters drain energy like that? Or come so close near the city? China's house isn't that close to their grounds!" Arthur said, all his previous doubts gone. This was connected to the disappearances. He could feel it.

"Yes, yes I see your point. Perhaps you're right…It might even be a good thing if you are." Francis said, waving off Arthur while still maintaining a serious air.

"Good? I was nearly killed!"

"Calm down _mon cher_. You know that's not what I meant." Francis responded (using some French no less. Did Francis try to make him more irritated on purpose?). "If you really were almost the next victim, then it means we now know more about what's happening. The fact that you said you felt your magic slip away explains how so many powerful people have gone missing. And it means that monsters are the ones doing away with these people. Though, if someone is controlling them or if they have simply gone mad, we can't say yet. Neither do we know where the missing people are going….but still, it is a start."

"I'm not done." Arthur said.

"No?"

"I haven't been able to wake up. Not since last night." Arthur explained, finally saying out loud the most frustrating part of his situation.

But Francis smiled at this, bringing a heart to his chest. "Oh dear, if you simply did not want to see me earlier today, you could have just told me so. True, I do enjoy your company while you are inebriated, but your rowdy behavior does make it so much harder to take a beautiful lady or gentleman home."

Did Francis really think he was joking? "This is serious. I've been cursed." Arthur said, a dark edge appearing in his voice. "Vietnam thinks if might have to do with the disappearances, but until we know for sure, I am stuck here, in Abaddon, for who knows how long."

Silence once again settled into the room as Francis slowly began to realize he was serious.

"…You sure have gotten yourself into quite a bit of trouble since the last time we spoke." Francis said, giving a weak laugh.

"Tell me about it." Arthur grumbled. He hadn't even brought up America.

"That's- I've never heard of something like that before. But do you agree with Vietnam? Do you too think it has to do with the disappearances?"

"I don't know. I don't know what to think. But I hope so. If it's something else…I don't know what I'll do." What could he do? He had already found out that America hadn't cursed him. If this didn't have to do with the disappearances, then he had no idea how he would break the curse. Not that he had any idea how to do it now, but having a bit of information was better then having nothing.

"I see. Then let us hope that this is just another step to finding a solution." Francis offered.

"A step that could get me killed." Arthur mumbled. Francis ignored him and continued speaking.

"I will tell you if I have more information. Perhaps the next pair of guards who come into my shop will have looser lips…" Francis stood up from his chair and stared at Arthur with a serious expression. "But you must be careful my friend. Whether or not it has to do with the disappearances, you have been cursed. Someone wants you to stay in Abaddon. And this place, as you and I both know, is never a safe place to be."

"Why must you remind me if we both know?" Arthur retorted, also leaving his chair.

Francis laid a hand on Arthur's shoulder. "Just try not to die."

"Noted." What else could he do?

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to attend back to my lovely customers. We've left them alone for long enough, don't you think?" Francis said, opening the door and stepping back inside his shop.

Arthur stood around for a bit, watching Francis attend to a young woman looking at an armor set, before stepping out of the shop with a barely audible farewell. The streets of the Marketplace were busy, with everything looking frustratingly normal. Even though Arthur knew that, at the moment, Abaddon was anything but.

What should he do now? Usually he would wait at his old corner for someone to come to him with a job, but Arthur didn't feel like standing around at the moment. He felt as if he had to do something, anything, just so he could get rid of the heavy feeling in his gut.

Then it hit him: America.

It would still be a while until his new charge would wake up, but that didn't mean Arthur had to wait to start his new mentor duties. And Arthur already knew what was first on the list.

America needed clothes. Clothes that actually fit him. And, as Arthur (very clearly) remembered from earlier, there were no clothes like that in his dresser. Which meant it was time to go shopping.

And here Arthur had been hoping he would _actually_ get to buy the sofa he had been saving up for. Oh well.

With that idea in mind, Arthur walked across the marketplace to the only place in Abaddon that, along with other everyday items found in the real world, sold regular clothes.

Finding regular clothes for someone who wasn't with you was hard enough, but finding armor was nearly impossible. Armor needed to be fitted to the actual person and besides, Arthur wasn't planning on going anywhere where they might need it.

"Hey, grumpy face! I haven't seen you here in, like, ages! Are you finally going to, like, wear something besides those totally awful vests of yours?."

Arthur was greeted by the store's owner as soon as he walked in, as a quick look around the store showed him he was the only one there.

"Hallo Poland. I'm just here to pick up a few things for someone else." Arthur replied dryly, heading straight towards the clothes section of the store.

"Oooooh. Is it for a boyfriend or girlfriend? You totally gotta tell me!" Poland yelled from behind the counter, looking aghast at the idea that Arthur was withholding information from him.

"No. Of course not. It's nothing like that." Arthur protested as he immediately began looking for a pair of pants. Would jeans work? America seemed the type to like those kind of things. But what size would he take? Certainly not his size, what with the way-

"Oh please! Your ears are turning red! Who is it? Tell me! Do I know them?" Poland insisted, growing more excited as Arthur's face turned redder.

"No! I would never-just no. Just let me shop in peace for once, will you?" Why did Poland have to do things like this _every_ time he came in? He was only blushing because, goddammnit, it was embarrassing to be asked things like that! And he hadn't been checking America out that time!

Oh god where had that come from?

"Whatever. Just, like, hurry up. I have to close up the shop soon. I'm, like, meeting Liet." Poland said, apparently having grown bored with the conversation.

"Fine." Arthur said, as Poland turned his attention back to filing his nails.

Arthur didn't have much time to pick a wide variety of clothes, so he settled for a few pairs a jeans and a handful of plain t-shirts.

"That's it?" Poland asked, looking slightly disappointed.

Arthur nodded, not bothering to give a verbal response. He didn't want to buy too much clothes only to find that America didn't fit any of them. And, though Arthur wasn't very proud of it, he didn't exactly have a lot of money to spend on buying bucket loads of clothes. America would just have to deal with only having two or three outfits.

"Like, okay then." Poland shrugged, about to run up the clothes, when Arthur felt a rush of guilt strike through him.

"Wait!"

"Like, what?" Poland looked at him with bland expression.

"Um…Could I look around a bit more?" Arthur asked, slightly embarrassed by his outburst.

"Whatever." Poland sighed, returning his attention back to his nails.

Arthur left the clothes by the counter (it wasn't as if anyone was there to steal them) and returned to walking around the shop.

It was true, he did feel a bit bad about giving America so little. There wasn't much he could do about the clothes, but he could perhaps get him something that might make him a bit more comfortable.

America had only really been in Abaddon for one night, and Arthur was afraid he hadn't gotten the best impression so far. First, something had obviously scared the poor boy the first moment he came here, then he was blamed for something he didn't do (which Arthur still felt slightly guilty about it), and then he was faced with a monster! America certainly hadn't seen the best Abaddon had to offer.

But he hadn't complained, and had even tried to help Arthur. Even if America was an idiot for trying to fight off a monster when he was still a newbie. But still, Arthur had to admit that it was brave.

He could try to a least get a little something for him. Anything to make America actually like this place a bit more. Sure, Arthur didn't want to be stuck here forever, but he still loved Abaddon. And, well, he wanted America to love it too.

Perhaps he could show America one of Abaddon's benefits somehow, maybe by taking him to one of the faerie gardens….

"Like, hurry up!" Poland yelled, and Arthur looked quickly around for something small to get America.

That was when he saw the glasses. That was right! America wore glasses! And Arthur highly doubted that he would fall asleep with them on again (which was what Arthur assumed had happened, because who falls asleep with their glasses on purpose?). Which meant that America wouldn't be able to see anything the next time he fell asleep. And if Arthur wanted to show America something to make him like Abaddon, he would have to actually be able to see.

So, with Poland trying to egg him on, Arthur picked a random pair of glasses and headed back to the counter.

It was a good thing that one didn't have to worry about prescription in Abaddon, as the glasses were charmed to match the eyesight of whoever was the first to put them on.

"Alright! Now pay up so I can get out of here." Poland said, outstretching his hand in a demanding gesture as the amount that Arthur owed appeared on the register.

Arthur paid for everything with the last of his savings, grabbed all of his things, and began heading for the door.

It was probably about time to head back home. Maybe he could figure out where to take America…

"Oh my God! I totally forgot! Wait!" Poland yelled out before Arthur could leave the store.

"Excuse me?" Arthur turned around, to find Poland running towards him. How Poland could run in those high heels was a question Arthur had long ago stopped asking.

"Like, I totally forgot 'cause of I was thinking of how I was gonna tell Liet all about this new kind of pink that I was gonna paint my house, but how no one here sells it even though they totally should cause it is, like, the best shade of pink I have ever seen-"

"Just get to the point." Arthur said, remembering what had happened the last time he had let Poland go on a tangent. He didn't _care _about the different techniques of putting on mascara.

Poland looked disappointed at having been interrupted, but went back to his original topic. "Okay, so I was, like, thinking about all that when I remembered I wanted you to do something!"

"You have a job for me?" Arthur asked in surprise. This could be a good thing. Arthur definitely needed the money, and perhaps he could even bring America along. As long as it wasn't too dangerous, seeing some magic (while not being attacked by some beast) might make America like Abaddon a bit more. And it_ had_ been a long time since Arthur had been able to show off.

"Yeah! You see, my house has this, like, pest problem…" Poland began explaining. And the moment Poland described what he needed to get rid of, Arthur knew he had to do this job.

It was just too perfect.

* * *

"Alfred! Honey, wake up!"

"..Huh?" Alfred groggily opened his eyes to see, through his currently crooked glasses, his stepmom above him. Had he fallen asleep on the couch?

"You've been sleeping for five hours! At this rate, you won't be able to go to sleep tonight." Angela scolded, carrying a bucket of laundry.

"Five hours?" Alfred sat straight up at that, glancing at the nearest clock. Sure enough, there was a blinking 3:00 where Alfred swore there had been a 10:00 before. He had wasted the entire day sleeping!

"Yes, that's what I said dear. You were out like a light! Don't tell me you were playing those video games all night again?" Angela asked disapprovingly.

" Uh…'Course not." Alfred said, giving a sheepish smile. It was obvious from her face that Angela wasn't buying it.

"Tsk. This is what happens when you don't sleep." Angela said, frowning before a small smile appeared on her face. "But at least you're well rested now! And it looked like you were having a nice dream."

"A nice dream…" Alfred repeated.

And then everything suddenly came rushing back to him. England, a curse, that monster-thing, the fire, China, his own strength—he remembered all of it.

It was all a dream? Well, he had known that…but actually being awake and remembering everything made it feel different somehow.

Unconsciously his hand touched the back of his neck, where he had been burnt in the dream.

"Alfred, are you alright? Did you hit something in your sleep? Let me see that." Angela placed her bucket of clothes on the nearby table and walked behind him to get a better look.

"Oh, it's nothing mom." Alfred said, letting his hand fall away from his neck. Why did he do that? It was only a dream. It wasn't like it had actually happened…

"Oh my God! Alfred, when did you get these burn marks on your neck?"

What?

"What do you mean?" Alfred asked, twisting his body to face Angela.

"Your neck! There's burn scars on there. When did you get these? They look at least a month old…"

No way. It was impossible.

"Oh! Uh…It happened the last time me, dad, and Matt went camping…I must of fell on the fire or something…yeah." Alfred made up an excuse, not knowing what else to do.

"Must of? Alfred, I think you would remember something like that."

"Must of? I mean yeah! I did! Uh… me and Matt were playing and I just fell on the campfire…yeah." No. This was not happening. There was a mistake.

"Well, if you say so. But you should have told me earlier. I'll have to tell your brother to be more careful next time." Angela said, picking up her laundry load and heading towards the washing machine. Alfred made a mental note to ask Matthew to back him up whenever Angela got around to asking him (which, if he knew his stepmom, she would probably forget about).

But there was no way that whole exchange just happened because there was absolutely no way Alfred had burn marks on his neck. How could he? He had only gotten burned in that dream. And dreams weren't real….

But he had to be sure.

Alfred jumped off from the couch and ran to the nearest bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him. There was his reflection, his hair all messed up and his glasses still slightly crooked, but otherwise no different from when he had fallen asle—wait.

There, on his left cheek, was a small cut. It was just a thin line, and it was already closing up, but it was there. Alfred hadn't had that this morning.

With growing dread, Alfred turned to his side so that he could see part of his neck.

And, sure enough, there they were. All across his neck and stretching into the beginning of his back were small pink scars.

He remembered the heat when running away from the monster's flame, and how his neck had hurt so much until-Wait. The scars were that, scars. If, and this was just an if, the dream had been real, then why were they healed already?

But just as soon as Alfred had asked the question, the answer came to him.

England. He had rubbed that weird green medicine stuff on him. Which had been embarrassing at first…but his burns had felt a lot better after it.

Could it have been magic? After all, England had actually preformed magic when they were fighting that monster thing….Assuming that had actually happened.

England had said it was real. And that he was supposed to go back every time he went to sleep. Alfred didn't really know what to think about that.

Sure, when he was a kid, Alfred used to dream of something like this happening to him. But now that it might have happened, it was hard to believe.

But there it was, staring at him from the mirror. Evidence. And Alfred, even though it went against all of his beliefs, couldn't deny it.

Still, he couldn't be sure. After all, going some place in your sleep? It all sounded a bit ridiculous to him. And, if he were to think of this logically, maybe he had gotten those wounds a long time ago in a way he couldn't remember, and his mind had just come up with a way to explain it.

Alfred guessed he would just have to wait until he fell asleep that night.

* * *

"Alfred, are you alright?" Matthew asked when Alfred's avatar died for the twentieth time since they had started playing their computer game.

"Huh? Oh, yeah." Alfred replied, realizing that he had been zoning out again. "I'm just a little tired is all…"

"Tired, eh? You slept for five hours this afternoon. And it's only 10:30."

Alfred just shrugged, not really sure how he was supposed to answer. Ever since he found the scars on his neck, he had spent most of the day distracted. Alfred didn't even have the heart to beat up Miguel and Young Soo.

Part of him really just wanted to sleep, and find out for sure whether or not he would end up back in that place. Even if it was slightly crazy, going to a different world still sounded kind of awesome.

"I think I'm gonna head to bed." Alfred said, making up his mind and shutting down his laptop. Besides, he was feeling a little tired anyways.

"Okay, if you say so…" Matthew said, turning back to the computer. Alfred got up from his bed on the floor and turned off the lights, so that the only light in the room came from Matthew's computer screen. He then took off his glasses, placed them besides his bed, and began to drift into sleep...

And opened up his eyes to find himself in a familiar room. It was only when the sleepiness wore off that he suddenly realized where he was.

"Woah…"

This was, without a doubt, England's bedroom. Though it was a bit blurrier then he remembered.

"Ah, you're awake. Welcome back."

And, as if to further prove his realization, there was the blur that Alfred knew to be England. Even with his currently bad eyesight (maybe he should have slept with his glasses) there was no mistaking those eyebrows.

"It's you again!" Alfred yelled out, hopping out of bed enthusiastically.

"Of course. It's my house. Who else would it be?" England retorted, but it didn't really matter because Alfred was in a _different world_!

Sure, he had been skeptical before, but actually standing here made it feel so much realer. Besides, now he knew for sure where he had gotten the scars from.

Alfred was now officially the only person he knew who could say that they were burnt by a monster.

Which reminded him!

"Uh…Thanks for the medicine stuff. It really helped!" He had England to thank for having burn scars instead of wounds, seeing as he was the one to give him the medicine.

Alfred couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw England blush a bit. "W-well that was why I gave it to you."

"So! Where are we going today? Are we gonna fight a monster again? Or ride dragons? Or fight zombies?" Alfred asked, his excitement growing with each question.

"…No. Were not doing any of those. Ever. But I do actually have something planned for us today. You'll be accompanying me on a job."

Alfred deflected a bit at that, because going on a 'job' didn't sound as nearly as much fun as shooting off a zombie head.

"Hey! Don't look so crestfallen, you should consider yourself lucky. Most people would kill to see me perform magic. Especially since I planned something special…"

"Special?" Alfred immediately piped up. Maybe he _would_ get to do something awesome today…

"Yes. But you'll have to get dressed first."

Alfred looked down to see himself wearing the same outfit he had gone to sleep in. "What? What the heck is it with this place and showing up in your pajamas? I thought I left here with your clothes on!"

England sighed. "That's not how Abaddon works. You come here with whatever you slept with. And before you even complain, I bought a few new pairs of clothes for you. Glasses as well." He said, handing Alfred a plain white t-shirt with jeans and a pair of glasses.

"Oh. Thanks." Alfred said, a bit surprised that England had done that for him. He immediately put on the glasses (because he was sick of just seeing blurred shapes and colors). The first thing he saw clearly was England scowling, just as he remembered him.

"Don't get me wrong! I didn't get it for you. I just didn't want to hear you complaining about my clothes again. Now hurry up and change so we can leave." England said, leaving the room and closing the door behind him to give Alfred some privacy.

"Whatever. Still free clothes." Alfred said to no one in particular. He quickly changed, wondering exactly wear England was going to take him. Thankfully the clothes fit much better then last time, and actually weren't too different from some of the clothes he usually wore.

"So where are we going?" Alfred opened up the door and asked England, who had been standing against the wall waiting for him.

"You'll see when we get there." Was all England said.

The whole walk to wherever-it-was-they-were-going was spent with Alfred trying to find out where they were heading and what they were doing. But England refused to give answers to either, only saying that it was a 'surprise'.

Sure, Alfred loved surprises, but come on!

Finally they stopped in front of a large pink house, and Alfred had no choice but to ask, "There? We're going in _there_?"

"Yes. What's wrong with going in there?" England asked.

"Its…_pink_."

"Just go in." England grabbed Alfred's wrist and practically dragged him inside. Alfred couldn't help but shake the feeling that, by entering the house, some of his manhood had been compromised.

"So…what are we supposed to do in here?" Alfred asked as they entered the living room. "Are we even allowed in here?"

The house was dark, as all the lights were left off, but someone obviously lived there. Even though it was nearly pitch black, Alfred could still make out what looked to be very expensive (if a bit girly) furniture.

"Yes. The owner of this house asked me to take care of a pest problem he has." England replied as he took something out of his pocket.

"Pests? Not spiders or anything…right?" Alfred was not afraid of spiders. He just didn't like their weird legs, or eyes, or the way they could climb on walls…

"Shush. I have to call them." England said, as he put the strange flute thing, that he had pulled out earlier, up to his lips.

"Who are you, Pied Pipe-" England shot him a glare before he could finish, so Alfred decided to just wait and see would happen.

Which was a good idea, because what happened next was kind of awesome.

England, now surrounded by a green aura, began to play the flute. But, as far as Alfred could hear, no music came out. What did come from the flute was a thin translucent thread of green that began to fly around the house, until it flew somewhere upstairs.

Then suddenly, from where the green thread had gone last, a small ball of light came into view. Followed by another, and another, and another after that, until there were about twenty balls of light. All of the lights seemed to form into a line, bobbing up and down in the air as they started to float down towards them.

It was only when the balls of light were about ten feet away did Alfred realize that they weren't balls of light at all.

They looked like tiny shrunken people, each glowing a different color and being held up in the air by two separate pairs of wings.

"Are those…fairies?"

"Pixies actually. Faeries are much bigger, and tend to have a closer resemblance to butterflies. Not to mention a bit more mean spirited towards strangers." England, who had by now stopped playing the flute, said with a fond smile on his face. "But don't worry, these little ones are quite friendly."

"I wasn't worried about that." Alfred mumbled, but his attention was too occupied by the pixies to care very much.

All of the pixies (and there were a lot more then he had originally thought) came on them in a wave. A dozen or so flew towards England, making excited clicking noises and flying around him as if they were long lost friends.

England looked…happy. He even began to laugh when some of the pixies began nuzzling against his cheek. Alfred had to admit that it was really…cute. But he didn't have time to admire the sight, as he was soon swarmed by all the remaining pixies.

All the colors of the rainbow passed through Alfred's eyes as the pixies flew all around him. Trying to keep track of all of them made his eyes dizzy, but it was still beautiful to look at. Once it seemed like the pixies had gotten a good look at him, they stopped flying and began to pull curiously at his clothes and hair. They didn't pull hard though, feeling more as if they just wanted to touch rather then take.

"Hey! That tickles!" Alfred stated laughing as a blue pixie began rubbing its face along his cheek. But Alfred's laughter only encouraged them, as more of the pixies began to nuzzle him.

"Seriously guys! Hahaha! Stop it!" Alfred began laughing harder, causing the pixies to begin chirping happily.

"Alright little ones, let's not crowd America now." England softly chided the pixies, still wearing that fond smile on his face. Alfred distantly thought that he should wear that smile more often, it made his face look softer.

The pixies reluctantly floated away from him, joining the crowd that was now floating behind England. "It's time to go now." England said, pulling out his flute again.

"Awww. Already? But we were just starting to have fun!" Alfred protested, with the pixies chirping in agreement.

Surprisingly, England didn't yell at him like he expected, but instead gave a small smirk. "Yes, I could see that. It's good you all had fun. But it's time for these guys to go home."

"Fine…" Alfred reluctantly agreed as England began playing the flute again.

This time the green thread stretched all the way out of the house, to somewhere Alfred couldn't see. The pixies then began to line up orderly and follow the thread as a road. Several let out farewell chirps, and one blue pixie (Alfred recognized it as the one that had begun tickling him) quickly separated from the group and gave Alfred a small peck on his cheek. It quickly then rejoined its group, and they all began to leave.

England kept playing the flute several moments after the pixies had long gone from their sight.

Eventually he stopped playing the flute and the green aura that surrounded him faded away. "Well, that takes care of the pest problem." He said as he put the flute away.

"Wait, they were the pest problem? But they're so cute!" Alfred said in astonishment.

To Alfred's further amazement, England began to laugh. Well, 'laugh' was probably not a good word, maybe 'low chuckle' or something like that would fit better. But still!

"What's so funny?"

"You object to going into a house solely because it's pink, but you don't mind calling things 'cute'?" Arthur said, chuckling a bit again.

"Hey! That's totally different! I like cute things! So what? It doesn't make me any less of a man to call something cute!...Besides, pink is just ugly."

"Yes, yes. Whatever you say." England said, still smirking. "And to answer your question, yes, some people do believe that pixies are pests. Pixies don't take so kindly to just anyone you know. If they find out you're a cruel person or greedy, they can be quite the little pests. And even people they do like don't necessarily like them. Not everyone likes getting their hair and clothes pulled at you know."

"Oh…" Alfred said, understanding a bit. "So what did you do to them?" Even if some people thought they were pests, Alfred didn't want anything bad to happen to them.

"Nothing, really. Those little ones had simply gotten lost from their home, one of the faerie gardens I imagine, and had been camping out in here. I simply showed them the way back home." England explained. "Now come on. I want to get out of here before the owner comes back. He can talk a bit too much, that one."

"Okay! So where to now?" Alfred asked as they left the too-brightly-painted pink house.

"Poland, the owner of that house, already paid me for this job, so I have a bit of money to spare... So, what do you say? Are you hungry?"

England was about to learn that you should never ask Alfred that question. Especially if you didn't want to lose half of your savings.

"Of course!"

* * *

And there we go. Sorry I had to cut it off there (not that there was a cliffhanger or anything. I decided to be nice today :D).

So the layouts for the next chapters will be a little different now. Because of the nature of the story, each day has to be specifically planned out. So from now on, each chapter will cover about one day! Usually. Though there will be flashbacks and the like. Occasionally. Whenever it floats my boat.

The next chapter will introduce (or re-introduces as I should probably say) something really big that will be a large part of the story from now on. Though I don't want to spoil too much :D

Anyways, the next chapter should be up late next week or early the week after that. The reason it might be slightly late is because, as an American, I will be celebrating Thanksgiving. Things tend to get a little hectic around this time. Not to mention that I have tutoring for the next two weeks (for SATs _), so will be a bit busy. But don't worry! I will try to get this out as soon as I can! Because I love you guys!

Till next time!


	6. Chapter 6

Hey guys... sorry this is so late. Along with SATs, I totally forgot about my exchange student that I had to host these past two weeks or so. Things were kinda hectic, cause I had to spent most of my writing time AND my homework time to show her around and entertain her (it was fun though). But she is leaving tomorrow morning, so I will now have a little bit more writing time. Now about the chapter!

This chapter, to me, doesn't feel eventful. But a lot of stuff happens in it, so it kinda is XD. There are also several plot points that are introduced/reintroduced in here, though they are only just starting out, they will be incredibly important in the long run of the story.

Hope you guys enjoy!

* * *

Peter hadn't thought much of it at first.

After playing video games until he was tired and eating the dinner he had heated up for himself, Peter had decided to stop waiting for his brother to come home. If he really was on a drinking binge like he thought, then it was no use staying up. Arthur would probably come stumbling back into the apartment early in the morning.

But it was when Peter was walking towards his room that he heard it. Snoring.

It was unmistakably coming from his brother's room. And a quick check confirmed it. There was Arthur, completely passed out on the bed.

Which was a little weird. Peter knew that Arthur hadn't come in while he was playing video games, which meant that Arthur must have been sleeping since before he came home.

5:00 was a little early to be asleep, but Peter brushed it off. Arthur had probably just taken a nap and had never woken up. Yup, just a nap.

So Peter wasn't all too worried when he passed out in his own bed.

It was in the morning, when he saw that Arthur hadn't moved at all since last night, that a feeling of dread started to creep into Peter's stomach. Not that he was worried, no not all, as if he would be worried about his jerk of his brother. It was just that…

"Greg?"

Peter was not panicking. He was simply calling up their oldest brother because he probably knew the best ways to wake Arthur up (so he could yell at him).

"Oi…Peter, what the hell do ya want?" Greg's gruff voice came through the receiver, and Peter got the distinct feeling that he had woken him up. Part of Peter thanked whoever was up there that Greg had long moved to Scotland, and didn't have the ability to punch him over the phone. He always had hit the hardest (at least, from what he saw when he and Arthur used to fight, seeing as Peter was too small to beat up back when they all still lived together).

"Peter…" Greg threatened when Peter hadn't immediately started telling him _why _he had called at 8 o'clock on a Sunday. But what was he supposed to say?

"Arthur won't wake up." Peter said in a rush.

"…You're kidding me right? That's why you called? The bastard probably just drank too much last night."

"He didn't!" Peter protested, "I came home at 5, and he was asleep already! He- he hasn't moved."

He wasn't upset. It was just a bit frustrating that no one ever listened to him.

"Alright, alright. Stop your damn sniffling." Peter thought that he could hear the rustling of bed sheets as Greg started to sound more awake. "Is he breathing or what?"

Dragging the phone as much as the wire allowed it, Peter took a peek inside Arthur's bedroom. "Yes. He's snoring rather loudly actually."

"Well there you go. He's alive…Oi, Peter, it's a Sunday. He's probably just tired or something." Greg sighed. "If he doesn't wake up by tonight, you can call the ambulance. Just-just relax until then. And don't call again."

Peter heard the click of the phone hanging up before he could respond. He stood there for a few seconds, listening to the humming of the static, before he put the phone back into the receiver with a huff.

Fine. If Greg didn't care, then Peter wouldn't care.

It wasn't like Arthur was hurt or anything, right?

…Right?

* * *

"Alfred, sweetie? Are you okay? You've barely touched your bacon." Angela's worried voice broke Alfred from his thoughts.

"I'm fine!" Alfred gave his step-mother a bright smile, and put new effort into shoveling the food into his mouth.

He was only half lying. Alfred wasn't fine.

He was absolutely fantastic.

"Alfred. You're hitting my chair, eh." Matthew commented, making Alfred realize that he had been shaking his knee in excitement.

He couldn't help it! He, Alfred F. Jones, had actually been to a different world! How awesome was that? And not just any world- one with magic and pixies and Italian food…

"Are you sure you're okay? You usually finish your breakfast by now. Are you sick?"

Alfred slightly jumped when Angela suddenly placed her palm on his forehead. He wasn't really sure if Angela was kidding or not. It was always a little hard to tell when she started entering 'mom' mode.

"I told you, I'm totally fine!" Alfred insisted, "I'm just not that hungry this morning!"

Both Angela and Matthew's eyes grew wide.

"Oh my God, you really are sick." Matthew stated.

"You're always hungry! What did I do? Is there something wrong with my cooking? I even made the kind of bacon you like!" Angela said, tiny tears starting to form by her eyes. Man, sometimes his step-mom was even more dramatic then _he_ was.

"Your cooking is delightful honey. Now what's all this fuss about?" Alfred's dad walked calmly into the kitchen, kissing Angela on the check before sitting by Alfred and Matthew at the kitchen counter.

"Alfred's not eating." Matthew said, pouring another gallon of maple syrup onto his pancake.

"Well that's unusual." Dad said, not sounding that concerned. "Did you sneak some food from the refrigerator last night? Stealing is bad you know."

"I didn't!" Alfred was slightly ashamed of how high his voice got just then. He coughed before defending himself again. "Is it a crime to not be hungry?"

His dad shrugged. "I'll have the rest of your pancakes if you don't want them."

Alfred grumbled a bit before sliding his plate over to his dad. He then proceeded to stare at his glass of milk.

Why did his family have to make such a big deal out of him not eating breakfast? Sure, it was rare for Alfred to turn down food of any type, but he did have his reasons. The main one being all the Italian food he ate last night…

When England had offered to take him out to eat, Alfred had agreed in an instant. He figured that he could eat all he wanted and still be hungry for breakfast. That had been proven wrong. Alfred still felt the remains of the meatball pasta he ate…and the pizza, and the lasagna and well, let's just say Alfred ate a lot. England complained a bit that he had wiped out his wallet, but it had been totally worth it.

Plus, his full stomach only further proved that what he had just experienced was real. The whole night had been totally awesome. The pixies were unbelievably cute, and hanging out with England after had actually been pretty cool. Not to mention that he was really fun to argue with.

At first, Alfred had been just a little bit worried that England didn't like him (don't get him wrong, he was a hero! He didn't care what people thought! That much…). And it wasn't when he was yelling that he thought this (because his face was sort of funny to look at when he was yelling) but it was when he acted like Alfred wasn't even there that worried him. If there was one thing Alfred hated most, it was being ignored.

But, after last night, Alfred had the feeling that he understood England just a little bit better…

"_Do you want more? I don't think we've spend enough of my money yet." England said in what Alfred guessed was sarcasm. 'Guessed', because Alfred was never really great at understanding sarcasm._

"_Sure! You think they have hamburgers here or what?" Alfred said, causing England to drop his head into his hands._

"_We're leaving before I run out of money and I'm forced to wash the dishes." England said. _

_He stood up and placed a wad of foreign looking money on the table that they had been sitting at. But before Alfred was able to stand up from his own chair, England had begun walking away. _

_Why did he always do that? England never waited for him for anything, always going on whether or not Alfred was ready to go. _

"_Hey! Dude, wait up!" Alfred managed to catch up to England quickly enough, slowing down besides him as they began to walk through a slightly busy shopping area (or at least that was what Alfred assumed it was, he didn't know for sure seeing as this was another world and all). _

"_Why'd you just leave like that? Are you mad at me or something? If it's about spending all your cash-"_

"_I'm not mad at you." England quickly cut him off, "I offered to pay for you and, while you didn't have to go about eating the whole menu, I'm not angry at you for taking my offer." He explained matter-of-factlly, only seeming slightly annoyed when he recalled how Alfred had spent most of (his newly-earned) money._

"_Well, you still didn't have to leave me there." Alfred said (England's sudden departures were not bothering him all that much…He just wanted to have another fun fight with him). "Don't you know that you're supposed to wait for the people you hang out with?"_

_Alfred watched England's face, waiting for his eyebrows to make the giant furry 'V' that they always seemed to make when he was annoyed or mad. But that didn't happen. _

_Instead, England's face went into what looked like a mild expression of…shock._

"_Oh shit. Did you seriously not know that?" Alfred asked, feeling both a little nervous and guilty._

_The look of shock instantly left England's face. "Of course I knew that. I'm not an imbecile." He started walking slower, and Alfred had to take smaller steps to keep his pace. "It's just…" _

_England didn't complete his sentence, leaving Alfred wondering what the hell it was he was going to say. They just continued walking, passing people who were constantly entering and exiting the shops around them. _

_Finally Alfred couldn't take it anymore._

"_What where you going to say?"_

_England, who looked like he had been thinking about something, slightly jumped at his voice. "What do you mean?"_

"_You never finished your sentence. You sure you aren't mad at me?"_

"_I already said I'm not—It's just…" England trailed off again, and Alfred was worried that he would go silent again, until England mumbled something intelligible._

"_What was that?" Alfred asked, not understanding what he had just said._

"_I said I'm n't u'd 't bmmng 't pemmle'"_

"…_What?"_

"_I __**said,**__ I'm not used to 'hanging out' with other people!" England yelled, crystal clear this time. He continued after a brief second of pause, his voice lower but still audible. "I...I guess I'm just used to walking and such by myself. There's…it's not usual for…anyone to be, uh, with me. I suppose." _

_A few seconds passed, and Alfred watched in amazement as England's face turned red from the embarrassment of his outburst._

_And it suddenly hit Alfred that this was probably one of the longest times England had ever spent with someone. In Abaddon at least._

"_Well…I guess it's my job to get you used to hanging out! It's my heroes' duty!" Alfred said determinedly, flashing a thumbs-up for good measure._

"…_Git." England said, a small smile peeking at the corner of his mouth. _

"Alfred? Are you sure you're not sick? You seem awfully distracted." Angela's concern broke through his reminiscing, and Alfred suddenly returned to the present. "And your face looks a bit red."

"…Huh? Oh, I'm fine. Just a little tired is all." For some reason Alfred felt embarrassed, being caught thinking about England. Not that he needed to feel embarrassed—he wasn't thinking something bad or anything like that…but still.

"Well you should probably go to sleep early tonight if you're that tired. Tomorrow's a school day you know." Angela said offhandedly as she began cleaning up the kitchen.

"Sure thing." Alfred said, smiling. Why wouldn't he go to bed early if it meant going to a different world, filled with pixies and fairies and monsters?

_And England_, his mind added.

"So," Alfred' dad said, getting up from his chair by the kitchen counter, "Are you boys planning on doing anything today?"

"Not really, eh. Miguel's going with his family to this festival thing. And Chelle is busy with her project…so I'll probably just stay home." Matthew said with a shrug.

"Same here." Alfred said, slightly absent-mindedly. "Except replace 'Miguel' with Toris and 'festival' with 'meeting a friend'."

Dad nodded in understanding, heading towards the TV and turning it on.

The theme song to 'Wheel of Fortune' started to come through the TV when Alfred suddenly remembered something important.

"Wait!" Alfred half-yelled as he jumped from his seat. "Gramps is here!"

Alfred, in the midst of all the alternate-world stuff, had almost forgotten that his grandfather had come to stay with them. Gramps was always a ton of fun to hang around with, and he and Alfred made a point to do something together whenever he visited.

And there was no way Alfred wasn't going to take advantage of that. Especially since it was so rare for Gramps to visit in the Fall. Even rarer still for the visit to be in October. Maybe they could go jump in crunchy leave piles! Or carve pumpkins!

"We can go fishing!" Alfred decided out loud.

He expected for the rest of his family to welcome his idea with the same amount of enthusiasm, but was surprised when an awkward silence descended on the room.

Dad suddenly started clearing his throat, while Angela stopped her cleaning and began to nervously twirl her ponytail. Matthew similarly tucked some stray hair behind his left ear.

"Where is Gramps anyways? I wanna see if we can go somewhere today." Alfred choose to ignore the awkward signs, determined to hang out with his grandfather.

"Ah…son, I don't think it's a good idea to bother him right now. It's…ah, well…" Alfred's dad tried to explain, not really getting anything across.

"He's not here anyways!" Angela suddenly quipped, looking fidgety.

"Huh? Why not?" Alfred asked, looking to Matthew for an answer. Out of everyone, he seemed the least shady. Plus, he was his brother! He had to give him some answers.

"I'm not sure." Matthew said honestly. "He got up, before you were up, and said he was going to the park to read."

"Oh." Alfred said, slightly disappointed. "Maybe when he comes back then?"

"I don't think that's going to work, Alfred." Dad said sympathetically, "He's…well, you know how he gets around this time. It's…It's only a few weeks from now."

Alfred's dad didn't need to be specific for Alfred to immediately know what he was talking about. An acidic taste rose in Alfred's throat as he remembered the exact reason why Gramps never visited in Fall.

…But he had been hoping that Gramps' recent visit had meant the end of all that. That they could finally put it behind them. Had it been too much to hope for? But Alfred had thought it had been getting better…

Then again, Gramps had always been hit the hardest by what happened to Alfred's mother.

At least, he had been hit the hardest after Alfred had stopped caring. After all, she was the one that had wanted to leave. And Alfred wasn't about to let _her _ruin Halloween for him.

"…Oh. Okay." Alfred finally said, deciding that he shouldn't bother Gramps if he was having a bad day. If reading a book or whatever helped him, then Alfred was all for it.

The rest of the day was spent silently watching re-runs of family shows and the occasional made-for-TV movie. Alfred couldn't wait until it was time to go to sleep.

Going to another world sounded really good right now.

* * *

Arthur had spent the past day trying to earn back some of his money. The money that America had spent by completely shoveling food into, what seemed like, his bottomless stomach.

Usually Arthur would be livid at the very thought of someone using all his money so unnecessarily, but all he felt was a mild irritation. It was even a little bit frightening, how calmly he was taking his wallet being emptied out _again_ for that idiot (the first time being when he bought him his clothes).

But part of Arthur felt as if the dinner had been worth it. After having seen the pixies and eating out, Alfred's opinion on Abaddon seemed quite more positive. And the way the idiot had stuffed food into his face, though obnoxious, had even been a bit…endearing. Ah, wait, no. Endearing was not a word he would ever use to describe that git. Even if he just did.

Well…at least it was proving relatively easy to earn back his money. Arthur had received many more jobs then usual, and had spent more of the day doing spell work than waiting in his corner.

It was partially a good thing, as he was making more money then ever. But Arthur knew that the reason why there were so many new jobs for him was that people were more paranoid then ever. It looked as if more and more people were becoming aware of something wicked happening in Abaddon. Which meant it was likely to get worse.

However, even knowing this, there was not much Arthur could do. He could not get any information at the moment (seeing as Francis was awake) and there was no way he was going to go find a monster to fight and end up getting himself killed.

After having completed around four jobs, Arthur began heading back home feeling completely drained. Perhaps he would have a little time to rest in peace, as America had told him he usually didn't go to sleep till at least eleven. And, if Arthur was counting the time distance right, it was about nine o'clock there now.

Good, Arthur could use some quiet time.

Just thinking about it made him smile. Yes, sitting down with a good book (one of the ones he had bought from Poland a while ago) and relaxing sounded like heaven at the moment. Already feeling lighter, Arthur reached his house faster then usual and opened the door.

"Hey England!"

…Why was America here already? And, more importantly, did he enjoy giving him headaches?

"So where are we going today?" America said, still smiling and already dressed in the clothes Arthur had bought for him.

"…It's nine o'clock in New York." Was all Arthur was able to get out, his hopes of relaxing entirely gone.

"I don't live in New York! Well, I live by it, but that's not the point. Oh! You mean why I slept early? It's a funny story actually. You see, I was really bored and none of my friends were online, so I figured I might as well see what you were up to!" America said, smiling brightly while rocking his feet back and forth. "Oh, and did you ever notice that your house is pretty bare? What, are you too cheap to buy any furniture or something?"

"You seem awfully energetic." Arthur said dryly, choosing to ignore what America had said about his house. He was working on it damn it!

"Ya think? I guess it's just 'cause I just finally believe all of this. Well, most of it. So, are we going to see those pixies again or what?"

"Did anyone ever tell you how demanding you are? And even though I would like to, I don't know where they could be." Arthur said, putting away part of the money he had earned into his safe (he was fairly sure America wouldn't be able to make the magic code required to open it).

America didn't seem fazed by this, "I thought you said they were in some kind of fairy yard or whatever."

"I don't think you're quite ready for a faerie garden. Pixies can be sweet, but faeries can be nasty buggers. Especially to people without magic." Arthur explained.

"Oh." America said, looking slightly disappointed. "...Can we still go somewhere today though? I wanna see stuff!"

Arthur's slight irritation at America's insistence turned into pride at the fact that he had been able to get America to actually be interested in Abaddon. "Well, I suppose I could show you more of the marketplace. You saw a little bit of it last time, but there's a lot more to see. I'm sure some of the stands will be up too…"

"Stands? Like the kind they have in festivals?" America asked.

"I suppose you could call it that. Though I think it's closer to the stands found at regular marketplaces. But they do have demonstrations and the like that I think you'll enjoy." Arthur said, thinking of the daily fire walking ritual they had. Not that Arthur would be willing to pay for America to try and walk across the flames (he had already spent too much money on the git) but at least he would be able to watch others do so.

"Cool! Let's go!" America said excitingly, pumping a fist in the air.

Arthur sighed, not exactly ecstatic about leaving the house after having just returned to it, but agreed. "Alright. We can look around a bit, but then I have to see a friend about something."

If they went to the market place, at least then he would get around to seeing Japan.

Japan was really Arthur's only real friend in Abaddon (he would never consider Francis as his friend) and he deserved to know about what was happening to him. If they were going to head towards the market place anyways, he might as well make a stop and see his friend.

Not to mention that Japan was very knowledgeable in certain areas. Besides being an expert in herbs, he was well learned in the many different types of relics (or items that let one into Abaddon) and how to summon certain spirits. Perhaps he would be able to shed some light on Arthur's curse. Or at the very least provide some emotional support.

"So you mean I get to meet someone other then you? Are they not as grouchy?" America asked excitingly.

"You..! You do realize I can zap you where you stand, don't you?" Arthur yelled. Really, the nerve of this kid!

"But you won't!" America responded, smiling widely.

"…Sod off." Arthur grumbled as he began walking out of the house. "We ought to get going. The marketplace will be busy if we don't hurry up."

"Alright! Let's go!" America yelled enthusiastically, running out of Arthur's house. He stopped in a few moments, however, when he realized he didn't actually know the way to the marketplace.

Arthur took the lead, and together they began walking.

When they finally did reach the marketplace, Arthur realized that they had come at a good time. Many people had already set up their stands, and the area was busy enough to look active, but not yet crowded enough to be troublesome.

The last time they had walked through the marketplace (the night before, when they had eaten over at the Italy's restaurant) it had been a bit empty. But now the large street was covered with activity, and Arthur could see America's eyes go wide at all the different sights.

All across the marketplaces were the shouting of salesmen and entertainers, trying to gain the crowd's attention. Among all the commotion were a few phrases that Arthur was just barely able to understand, most of them pitching sales like:

"Exchange your money here!"

"Free sheath with each purchased sword!"

"Are you brave enough to walk across the coals?"

"Get your familiars here!"

Before Arthur could bother to ask America what he wanted to look at first, Artur felt someone grab his wrist and found himself being dragged half-way across the street.

"Come on England! Let's go check out those things!" America shouted over the noise of the crowds, and Arthur was too concentrated on keeping his footing to yell at the idiot for grabbing him out of the blue like that.

It didn't take Arthur long to figure out where America was taking him. He should have known that he would want to see the animals first.

"Hello there! You two interested in getting a familiar?" The tall dark woman, standing behind the small stand they had just approached, asked.

Once she saw England, however, her 'saleswoman' voice turned more casual. "Oi, England, I see you came out of your little corner there. Who's the blondie?" She blew her choppy red bangs away from her face as she gave America an inquisitive look.

"Hallo Kenya. This is America. He's new around here." Arthur said, introducing America with a slight wave of his hand.

"Hi! Nice to meet ya!" America said, reaching his hand out to shake Kenya's. She accepted it, shaking his hand roughly a few times before letting go.

"So, what brings you here?" Kenya asked. "You interested in getting a familiar?"

"What's with all the animals?" America asked excitedly, ignoring Kenya's own question, while pointing at the various live creatures moving around the stand. They were all over the place, constantly crawling around the small stand or near Kenya. There was currently a large python-like animal, with skin that constantly changed colours, wrapping itself loosely around Kenya's waist.

"So 'old England hasn't been showing you the animals, huh? That's a shame. Not much of a mentor is he?" Kenya said sympathetically while she began petting a winged mouse that had crawled out of her jacket.

Arthur didn't yell back with a returning insult, as the python-like animal (who had now moved up towards Kenya's shoulder) made direct eye-contact with him. As if it was daring him to say anything bad about its master. It was a bit unnerving, to say the least.

It was just as well, as Kenya didn't leave much time for either America or Arthur to answer her rhetorical question. "These are familiars! They're like pets for some of the folks here at Abaddon. They all have special qualities about them, and help out the owners depending on what their skill is. Or just keep some people company. It doesn't matter either way, 's long as I get paid."

Arthur had never been the type for familiars. He had tried…but none of the animals seemed to share his temperament. Not to mention the fact that Francis had gotten one, a bird (that relayed back to him any secrets it had heard), and there was no way that Arthur was going to be caught copying him!

America, on the other hand, looked enchanted by the idea. "That's so cool! Can I get one England?"

America had turned to face him, eyes wide and pleading, and Arthur was finding it hard to say 'no'. But there was no way Arthur had enough money to buy one of those blasted creatures!

However, before Arthur found the willpower to tell them they couldn't afford it, Kenya began talking again.

"Well…let's see. You're a bit of a care-free one, aren't you?" Kenya said, looking at America with critical stare. "…I think I got just the thing."

Kenya let out a short and high pitched whistle, and Arthur began to mentally prepare himself for whatever creature was about to show up. It could be anything, something sweet and cuddly or something completely terrifying. You never knew with Kenya.

Instead of a monster charging into sight (which, Arthur had to admit, was what he was half expecting) a small bird broke away from the herd of creatures currently flying in a circle above the stand. It came down to rest on Kenya's outstretched hand (which it was barely bigger than), and turned its beady eyes towards Arthur and America.

"This one here is a Fire-Breast." Kenya explained, and it was immediately apparent why the bird was called such a thing.

It was, from its head to its tail, completely covered in flame. Or rather, Arthur thought, it was more as if it was made of flame itself. From the bottom of its beak to the middle of its chin, it was coloured a bright red flame. Along the rest of its body were various shades of blue and, Arthur swore, a hint of purple. The flames moved lightly in the wind, crackling softly while never losing their intensity.

"Woah…" America stared in admiration, before his eyes went wide. "Wait! Your hand!"

Kenya laughed. "Don't you worry about me. Her flames won't burn me. Or you, for that matter. Would you like to hold her?"

America nodded, and held out his hand. The small bird seemed to understand the meaning, and lightly hopped onto America's hand.

"It's a good bird for someone like you. I hope you don't mind me analyzing you, but you seem like the type to rush into things without looking. This bird here is good for scouting ahead, and warning you when there's danger. Plus, it's good at defending itself if need be. It's a good familiar for a beginner like you." Kenya explained, though America didn't seem to hear, so taken he was with the small bird. The creature had hopped onto his head, and America was currently playing some strange form of hide and seek with it. America had stopped listening, only concentrating on the bird.

"The blue flames match his eyes, don't you think?"Kenya said casually to Arthur after watching America for a few moments.

Arthur looked, and could see that both the bird's upper body and America's eyes were the same startling sky blue.

Were America's eyes always that colour? Why hadn't he noticed until now? They seemed so bright…

"The bird will be 1,000 aureus." Kenya said bluntly, breaking Arthur from his train of thought. He nearly groaned upon hearing the number. There was no way that he would be able to afford that.

"1,000 aureus?" America asked, turning back his attention towards them. "Is that a lot?"

"No." Kenya said.

"Yes." Arthur said.

He was ready to cover his eyes in case America put on the puppy dog eyes again.

But America just nodded, and handed the bird back to Kenya. "Thanks for letting me look."

"You don't want it?" Arthur asked, slightly surprised. He had taken America for the type to keep whining about something until he got it.

"I would like to have it, yeah. But I don't have any money of my own…and I'm not gonna make you buy it if it's too expensive." America shrugged.

"Oh." Arthur said, not really sure how to respond to that.

"Hey, let's go check out that fruit stand!" America said, excited again and ready to head back into the crowd.

But Kenya was not about to let a possible customer get away that easily.

"Wait!" She called out before they could begin leaving. "You don't have to pay with money!"

America immediately turned, heading back towards the stand. "Really?"

"Yes." Kenya said, smiling now that she had his attention back. "You can trade something you have with me."

"Oh." America said, looking slightly dejected. "I don't really have anything."

"Really?" Kenya asked, raising her eyebrows. "What about that ring you're wearing?" She said, pointing towards America's right hand.

Wait, a ring? Arthur hadn't noticed America wearing one before, though, then again, he hadn't really been looking at his hands.

But there on America's right hand was a silver ring with black intricate markings. It looked familiar to Arthur, but he couldn't quite place where he had seen it before…

"Oh…I'm sorry. I can't give that to you. It's a gift from my grandfather. Family heirloom and all that." America said, and Kenya nodded in understanding.

"Well, stop by again then. Perhaps I'll still have something for you by the time you get some money." Kenya said, bidding them farewell as both America and Arthur left the shack.

Walking through the crowds, Arthur was lost in thought. Something was bothering him. Where had he seen America's ring before?

It was only when they were looking at exotic fruits when it hit Arthur like a brick.

No. It was impossible.

But all Arthur needed to do confirm his realization was to look at his own hand to see his own ring. He was right. His and America's rings were nearly identical. If it were not for the fact that Arthur's ring was slightly smaller and had golden bands instead of America's black, they could be twins.

But that wasn't right. Arthur's ring was a relic, a one-of-a-kind trinket that allowed Arthur to enter Abaddon. Wasn't Alfred a natural, one who didn't need such a thing?

It was rare for someone with a relic not to know about Abaddon before coming there (after all, relics were hard to find, and one would only search for one if they knew their true value). And America had no idea about Abaddon until he came here.

Not to mention the very important fact that there was supposed to be only one copy of his ring.

Relics were individually created, each with a different trinket, and there had never been a case of there being two kinds of the same relics. The reason for this was the very delicate process that went into making a relic.. All recorded attempts of trying to make the same kind of relic ended badly. And usually in death.

What the hell did that mean? Maybe Arthur was overreacting. Perhaps there was just another ring that was similar, but not quite the same, as his that Arthur didn't know about, and America just happened to stumble upon a rare and powerful relic. Maybe he should just ignore it.

But with all the strange things happening in Abaddon lately, Arthur didn't think he could risk it.

"Let's go America." Arthur said, grabbing America's wrist and leading him away from the current stand they were waiting at.

"Hey! But he was just about to give me a free sample!" America complained but, though he could have broken away at any time what with his strength and Arthur's light grip, he didn't fight against him.

Arthur kept walking until the two of them were in a secluded corner, where no one could overhear their conversation.

"What was that all about?" America said as Arthur let go of his wrist.

"When you were talking to Kenya earlier, where did you say your ring came from?" Arthur asked carefully.

"…My ring? Geez, I had nearly forgotten about it, but now suddenly everyone's interested in it…" America mumbled before explaining, "It was a gift from my grandpa."

"And when did you put it on?" Arthur asked, already knowing the answer.

"Huh? Um, not too long ago, Friday I think. The night I meet you actually..." America paused, finally beginning to catch on to what Arthur was getting at.

"I thought so. You're wearing a relic." Arthur stated. He briefly wondered if he would have to explain relics to him again, but America seemed to remember.

"…So I started coming here because I started wearing this?" America asked in confirmation, holding up his hand and pointing to the ring in question.

Arthur nodded.

"Holy shit! Man, Gramps got me the best gift ever!" America said, eyes wide with realization.

"Yes, yes. And it explains the fact that you don't have any magic…but there's too many things wrong with this." Arthur frowned.

"What do you mean? What's the problem here?" America asked.

"That ring shouldn't exist! It's nearly identical to mine!" Arthur said, holding out his own hand to show his own ring.

"…That's so cool! So, are we like, matching or something?" America said excitingly, but changed his tone when he saw Arthur's glare. "Or…is that bad?"

"Yes. Very bad. There is only supposed to be one ring in existence, at least, there was only one that was ever recorded…" Arthur said, before sighing. "Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself. We should at least double check that our rings were made by the same person…then we can see from there."

"Wait…What's the big deal about having the same kind of ring? What's the worst that could happen?"

"That's the problem. I don't know. No one knows, really. The last person who tried to make a pair of identical relics….it didn't turn out so well. Worst case scenario: The energy from your ring could eat you from the inside." Arthur said seriously.

"Oh."

America looked a little sick.

There was no question that Arthur's ring was the original. After all, Arthur had been using it without any problems (save for the recent fact that he couldn't wake up). Which had happened when he had bumped into America…maybe America did have to do with his curse after all?

It was all too confusing to think about just then. First things first, they had to figure out if the rings were really the same or not.

Well, he had been planning on seeing Japan today anyways. Arthur was silently grateful that his quiet friend was so knowledgeable in relics.

Arthur lead America to Japan's small shop without much resistance. America didn't seem to want to say much after Arthur's recent statement.

"Welcome to our shop." Japan greeted from behind the counter as they entered.

"Good evening England-san." Japan bowed once he realized it was Arthur, before turning to America. "You brought a friend?"

"This is America. He's new." Arthur decided to get straight to the point. "Look, Japan, something has-no, that's not right- a lot of things have happened since I've last seen you. There's a lot I have to tell you, but I first need you to do something for me. Would you be willing to examine these relics of ours?"

A few seconds passed as Japan looked over Arthur. It always felt as if Japan was staring straight into his mind at times like these. It was strangely (with America being there) silent, the only sound being the occasional meow coming from a mound of creatures that Arthur assumed hid the sleeping figure of Greece.

Finally Japan spoke, "You look as if you have been through a lot, England-san. I will do this favor for you."

Arthur let out a relieved sigh. He knew he could count on Japan.

Japan asked them to hold out there two hands, not yet willing to remove the relics, and examined the rings.

After a few minutes of turning their individual hands over and tracing the lines etched on the rings, Japan spoke.

"This was made by the same man."

It was exactly what Arthur had thought.

"Are you sure?" Arthur asked, double checking.

"I…I am very sure." Japan said, giving a firm nod.

There was an awkward silence in the room.

"Well, shit. Does this mean I'm going to die?" America suddenly asked outright. "I hope I don't turn into some kind of zombie or get covered in black goo or something…that would just be gross."

Japan's eyes widened at America's bluntness but, to Arthur's relief, shook his head. "No. Whoever made this was very good at what he did. Both of the rings are stable."

"That's a relief." Arthur said, happy that he didn't have to deal with his first mentee blowing up. And no, he was not glad that America himself would be alright…It just would have been a right mess to clean up after him if he died.

"So…Everything's all good?" America asked.

Japan nodded. "Though, if America-san wouldn't mind, I would like to examine his ring at a closer angle. There seems to be something a bit strange about it, but I can not say for sure without closer inspection."

"You want me to take it off?" America asked, to which Japan nodded. America turned to Arthur. "Am I even allowed to do that?"

"It should be alright, if only for a little while. Nothing will happen if you take off the ring while you are not currently traveling to or from Abaddon. Unless you feel as if you're about to wake up?" Arthur asked.

"Nah, I'm good." Alfred said, sliding the ring of his hand.

It was in the exact moment that the ring fell from America's touch into Japan's open palm that America fainted.

* * *

It felt as if he was back in Matthew's room, lying in his bed, but…

He couldn't move. Alfred couldn't move his body.

It was as if there was something, something huge and heavy, sitting right in the middle of his chest. A puff of hot wet air blew into his face.

Something was breathing on him.

Alfred opened his eyes to see deep ruby eyes staring down at him. Another puff of hot hair blew onto Alfred's face, and he was nearly smothered by the smell of rusted iron.

The breath was coming from a set of white fangs, glowing eerily bright against the darkness all around him. He felt more weight being pressed into his chest.

From the fangs came a voice. It was low, and sounded as if it were being dragged across gravel, and Alfred could understand it.

"_Ring…keep…pact"_

Alfred tried to open his mouth to scream, or to shout for help, or to do _anything_, but his body wasn't listening to him.

"…_Blood…"_

The last word stuck him like a knife, and the smell of iron filled his senses.

* * *

"America! America, are you okay?"

Alfred felt like he had just been thrown against a wall. Even with his eyes still closed, everything seemed brighter and sharper then usual.

At least the smell of iron was gone.

With a jolt Alfred remembered the…_thing_ that had been on him. He opened his eyes quickly, half expecting to see a pair of ruby red slits staring back at him.

What he saw instead where two concerned green eyes.

"Thank goodness…it worked. Japan, Greece, he's up." The eyes said. Alfred still felt whiplash, as if he had quickly moved from a great distance, and it took him a while to realize that the eyes were attached to a face. And that the face was attached to a person.

"…England?" Alfred asked, still not fully conscious. "What…what happened?" Alfred slowly moved into a seating position on the floor (how had he ended up on the floor?), still not feeling strong enough to stand up. He moved his hand to his head, feeling a huge headache coming on.

England, who was kneeling on the floor next to him, handed him a wet towel. Alfred took it and held it up to his forehead. The cold cloth felt good against his hot skin.

"You fainted when we removed your ring. That's…that's not supposed to happen. We didn't know what to do, so we put the ring back on. You woke up-" England paused. "You're bleeding."

Alfred, slowly processing what England had said, could suddenly feel wet liquid running down from his nose to his lips. He sluggishly brought his fingers up to the area, and pulled them away to see red.

"Greece, could you get another cloth?" England said, before turning to Alfred. "What happened?"

"I…I'm not sure." Alfred said, starting to become more alert. "I think I went back to my room, but there was this-this monster or something and-and…"

He started to become jittery, remembering those horrifying few seconds. The monster was probably scary by itself, but to someone like Alfred, who had always been scared of ghosts and the like, it had been absolutely terrifying.

England seemed to sense this, and placed a gentle hand on Alfred's shoulder. "It's okay. We won't make you take the ring off again, at least not until we understand what's going on. Everything's alright." He's voice was soothing, and Alfred found himself relaxing and nodding along with England's words.

With a little help, as he felt a little dizzy, Alfred was able to stand up and walk over to a chair to rest.

But though he did feel more relaxed surrounded by both Japan and England (along with some other guy whose name he didn't know), who made sure there was no permanent damage to his nose (it was just a nosebleed), Alfred could only focus on one thing.

The monster that he had woken up to…He knew it. Alfred couldn't describe how he knew, but he just knew that, without a doubt, he had seen that _thing_ before.

It was the same creature he had seen the first night he came to Abaddon.

* * *

Peter had given Arthur until twelve o'clock to wake up.

But then twelve o'clock had passed, and then 1 o'clock, and then 2 o'clock, and so on until it was suddenly 5 o'clock.

It was 5 o'clock. And his brother was still not awake.

Peter couldn't deny it anymore. There was something very, very wrong going on with Arthur.

And Peter was definitely panicking.

Why wasn't he getting up? Peter had tried everything, clapping, playing loud music, holding his nose, everything except slashing water on him. And Peter only refrained from doing that because of the fear that, at this rate, Arthur would drown instead of waking up.

Peter had called each of his older brothers, all who had brushed him off and told him to stop worrying. So he had decided to wait and see if his brother would wake up. Which didn't work, and had only made him panic even more. He was so worried that he was even beyond the point of denying that he was panicking or worrying.

When the clock turned into a green and blinking 6, Peter had decided he had had enough. Picking up the phone, Peter made his decision.

It was time to call the ambulance.

* * *

Annnd done. Hey guys!

And I have a bit of bad news. I've been trying to keep a steady schedule of once a week updates (with a few exceptions) since starting this story, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to change the updating schedule. This is because I really need the time to start working on my senior project, which is this really huge thing due at the end of January that will allow me to graduate high school. I've been working on it, but I haven't been able to do most of the main part of the whole thing. So most of my writing time will now have to be spent working on this, but only temporarily.

But don't worry! This story will still update, except it will now be running on a twice-a- week schedule. This will give me more time and really help with my stress levels. I'm sorry guys, I do love writing this story, but I kind of love it a little too much in that I'm working on it instead of my project. So I will be trying this new schedule out. Just until the end of January (or around there). But after that, the once a week schedule will return!

I'm really really sorry. And again, thank you to all of you guys for reading, reviewing, favorite-ing, and alerting this story. I love all of you guys!


	7. Chapter 7

Hey guys! Sorry this is a few days late. I've been pretty busy, something kind of happened and it was really hard to start writing again, but at least it's up now.

And quick note, Chelle/Michelle= Seychelles.

Hope you enjoy!

* * *

The bus ride to school was incredibly quiet. Alfred wondered if this was because the other passengers were thinking about the same things he was. But that was silly. He knew that the bus was usually this quiet and it was only because he wasn't napping, for once, that he had noticed. In fact, the one sleeping at the moment was actually Matthew.

His step brother was leaning against him, using Alfred as an impromptu pillow. His earphones were still playing even though it was unlikely he could hear them.

Looking at Matthew made him feel a little tired, but Alfred made sure to push the feeling away. He had to keep himself awake. There was just too much to think about.

And then there was also the fact that if he did fall asleep, he would end up in another world.

Alfred was still getting used to that fact, even though it had been happening for a few days now.

He absent mindedly rubbed his ring, the thing that had made all of this possible.

Who would have thought that the gift Gramps gave him would send him to Abaddon? Well, maybe his grandfather knew, if what he had said was true. That he and his ancestors had worn it. Did that mean they had all gone to Abaddon? Was this something all the men in his family went through?

It was too bad he couldn't talk to Gramps this morning, as he had had to leave for school nearly immediately. He would just have to ask Gramps about it when he got home.

Well, it wasn't as if he could just ask him straight up if the ring took him to another world. That would just make him sound crazy. Maybe he could try to edge it into the conversation…?

Then Alfred remembered.

That was right! He had promised England that he would find out from his Gramps who had made the ring. He remembered England asking him to do that after the whole…incident when he had taken it off the other day.

Alfred had to consciously suppress a shiver just thinking about it. It wouldn't do any good to wake up Matthew.

England had said that asking his grandfather and trying to find out who had made their rings might help. Alfred trusted England, and wanted to believe him. He was really starting to like Abaddon so far, but he definitely didn't want to deal with that…monster, or whatever it was, again.

Alfred started to turn the ring around his finger. Touching it gave him a small bit of comfort, and reminded him that he could stop it all if he just took it off. He just chose not to.

Part of him wondered if it was because he was afraid to see the monster again if he took it off, or if he just hated the fact of not being able to go back to Abaddon.

Either way, he would make sure that the ring stayed on.

Alfred looked out of the window, and realized with a start that it was almost time to get off. He woke up Matthew, who mumbled tiredly, and pulled the alarm to get off. They exited the bus and, together, walked towards school.

Walking into the homeroom that they both shared, Alfred was nearly shocked on how normal everything looked.

Matthew walked over to his seat, next to Miguel (the bastard) and Yong Soo. Alfred's friends Chelle (or rather, Michelle, though no one ever called her that) and Toris waved him over to his own seat.

"Hey guys," Alfred said, smiling at his friends as he sat down. "It feels like ages since I've seen you."

"It was just a couple of days." Chelle said, quirking an eyebrow. Alfred decided not to comment.

"Did you have a nice weekend?" Toris (who, no offense to Chelle, was Alfred's best friend) asked.

"Yeah!" Alfred said, figuring that was the best answer he could give at the moment. "So how did your meeting with your friend go?"

"Nice." Toris said, with a fond smile on his face. "He can be a little overbearing at times…but it was good to see him again."

Alfred nodded, happy to see he had a good time. He better have, seeing as he missed a day with Alfred to see him!

"So…the big day is coming up." Chelle said, changing the subject while turning to Alfred with an excited expression on her face. "Did you decide on your costume yet?"

Alfred blinked a few times, confused as to what Chelle meant. "What day?"

Chelle looked surprised. "…Halloween. Your favorite holiday, remember?"

Holy…Alfred had forgotten all about that! It was kind of funny when he thought about it. Last Friday he had been obsessing about Halloween, but it had gone to the back of his mind—what with everything that had been happening.

Before Chelle or Toris could get worried (Alfred knew that it was strange for him to forget about Halloween, even considering how early in the month it was), Alfred responded with a smile. "Joking! 'Course. Can't forget Halloween! I had a couple choices in mind actually…"

Alfred began to tell them all about his indecision on whether to be a cowboy or zombie, and they each gave their own input. They continued talking, moving from topic to topic, before the bell signaling the beginning of school rang. It was amazing how easy it was to talk to them like normal.

The noise in the classroom slowly dwindled down as the teacher came in and began class. In came Mrs. Rogers, their elderly English teacher (who really should have retired by now).

Seeing as it was only English, a subject that was boring by itself (Alfred much preferred Math or Science) but made even more unbearable with Mrs. Roger's droning, Alfred began to space out.

It was almost strange, how natural it was for him to slip back into his old routine.

He was only barely listening to the teacher go on about clauses or something like that. He instead began briefly looking around at everyone sitting near him. Everyone looked so normal, totally unaware and unsuspecting of what Alfred had seen. A totally different world.

Just thinking that thought still made feel Alfred slightly giddy. He just wanted to announce it to everyone that he, Alfred F. Jones, had successfully traveled to a different realm! But he knew they would all just think he was crazy. Not to mention that England would probably be pissed.

The image of England yelling at him, his eyebrows closing into a furry 'V' on his face, suddenly made Alfred chuckle. The noise earned him a few looks, but he ignored them. They could deal with a little laughter, Alfred thought, and he had certainly caused bigger distractions in the past.

Besides, he couldn't help chuckling at his mental image of England. The guy's eyebrows were really huge, and it was fun seeing how they exaggerated his facial expressions. Not that it was ugly or anything. In fact, if Alfred had to think of an adjective to describe them, it would have to be…cute.

Not-not that he liked England or anything, because that was…uh, well…Alfred wasn't-he didn't…

Alfred could feel his face begin to heat up, and he attempted to think of something, anything, else.

Toris was using a mechanical pencil (no wait-shit- that was a guy, not helping). Chelle had her hair tied up in two ponytails again (okay, better). The sound of Mrs. Roger writting on the chalk board made a screechy noise…

Alfred continued like this, focusing on different things around the classroom, before his eyes fell to the far corner of the room. And he froze.

There, standing completely still and taking up a large portion of the corner, was a mass of black…something. That looked like the something that he had seen just last night.

It was just standing there.

It was different, somehow, from before. The black was blurrier, and there was no face or features of any kind on it. It was as if it was staring into space.

And then suddenly, though there were no ruby eyes like before, Alfred got the distinct feeling that it had turned its attention to him. As if it had caught him looking. A light metallic taste rose in Alfred's mouth.

The black mass stayed where it was, a distance away from Alfred and everyone else.

What...What the hell? It wasn't doing anything! It was just…standing there. Staring.

And somehow, that unnerved Alfred more than if it had moved.

The fear and shock that had kept Alfred's body still broke, and Alfred knew he had to do something.

"Mrs. Rogers!" Alfred called out desperately, not really sure what else to do.

The elderly teacher slowly away turned from the board, and gave a tired, "Yes, Alfred?"

"There! In the corner! Don't you see it?" Alfred said, pointing to where the black mass was. He had to show everyone, so they could all realize what was with them and so they could leave. Or fight it. Or-or something. Alfred didn't know.

"See what?" Mrs. Rogers said, staring right where the thing was. "This better not be a joke, Alfred."

Was she blind?

"No, don't you see it? It's right there!" Alfred insisted, causing the rest of his classmates to turn and look where he was pointing.

Alfred waited for the screams.

But they never came.

Everyone had stopped staring at the corner (where the thing still was-how could they couldn't see it?) and were now staring at him. The class was completely silent.

"Eh…Alfred? Is-is everything all right?" Matthew, who was only a few seats away from him, asked in concern.

"What's wrong with you guys! It's there! I swear!" Alfred said, still pointing to where the thing stood. The mass was still staring at him, he could feel it, but it did nothing. "You believe me, right Matt?"

Matthew looked extremely worried now, but he managed to keep his voice calm as he spoke to Alfred. "Al, There is nothing there. I…maybe you should see the nurse."

Everyone was looking at him. Some were worried, while others looked irritated. But none of them could see it. And they were all thinking the same thing. That he was crazy.

Especially Matthew, who was giving him that knowing look. Shit.

Shit-no, Matthew didn't think…

Alfred wasn't crazy. He wasn't….Right?

Sharp images came back to him, of a familiar woman screaming at nothing. Memories of her yelling at monsters and demons that weren't there.

"_Shhh, everything's alright Alfie. I won't let him get you…We'll both go where they can't get us..."_

No. That couldn't happen to him. He couldn't let them think that the same thing was happening to_ him_.

He only had a few moments to convince them otherwise.

"Oh!" Alfred said, putting on his best surprised face. He took the glasses off of his face. "It was just a smudge on my glasses! Haha! Sorry I guess!" Alfred said, smiling widely at the class while he quickly cleaned his lenses with his shirt.

Alfred put the glasses back on his face. "See? All better! The hero is back!"

There was a slight grumble as students lightly complained, saying things like 'idiot' and 'attention whore', as most of them turned back to the teacher. Some of the people, like Matthew, Chelle, Toris, and some of Alfred's other friends, looked worried. But they too eventually turned back.

Alfred gave a slight breath of relief. He had managed to dodge a bullet there.

Once everyone had turned the attention back to the lesson, Alfred spared a glance to the corner.

The thing was gone.

Alfred knew he should feel happy about that, but he couldn't help but notice the sick feeling that was slowly creeping into his stomach.

The thing didn't appear again for the rest of the school day. But even so, Alfred couldn't allow himself to relax until school was over.

Instead of waiting around a bit after school to talk to his friends, Alfred decided to immediately catch the bus and go home. Matthew followed in silent agreement, getting the sense that Alfred wasn't up to staying after school.

Alfred knew Matthew had questions for him. His step-brother had known him for years, there was no way Alfred's bluff had him fooled. Especially since Matthew knew about _her_.

The bus was mostly empty, and both Alfred and Matthew moved to the back where no one else was seated. And, just as Alfred expected, Matthew began to ask him about what had happened earlier.

"Alfred…did you really see something today?"

"Uh, about that, could you not tell mom or dad?" There was no way he was going to start taking crazy pills.

"That's not an answer. Did you see something Alfred?"

What was he supposed to say? Matthew was his brother (blood relation or not), and he had never lied to him. Sure, sometimes he forgot about him, or didn't listen to him, or posted American flags all over his Canadian stuff, but he did love him. And he didn't want to lie to him.

But…if he admitted to seeing it, Matthew would think he was going crazy. And-and Alfred wasn't going crazy. The thing was real, and he had seen it in Abaddon before…Unless Abaddon wasn't real either.

No, Alfred wouldn't allow himself to think that way.

He made the quick decision to lie to Matthew. Just for now, until-until he could figure more of this out.

"Nah. I mean, I thought I did but you know- glasses. Smidge. On them. Yeah." Alfred chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck, while inwardly thinking '_Oh God I'm making it worse'_.

He could tell he was right by the way Matthew was staring at him.

Alfred decided to go for a different approach. "It was nothing. I just freaked out, you know how I hate ghosts and stuff." Matthew seemed to take this explanation better, so Alfred tried to seal the deal. "And I was kinda tired this morning. Maybe you and mom were right, I might've been sick yesterday or something. I'm probably still trying to get over it."

That did it. Matthew nodded, looking more convinced. Alfred knew it was a good idea to say Matthew was right (he loved being acknowledged like that once in a while).

"Alright. I won't tell mom or dad. But, if it happens again…you got to tell me, eh."

Alfred nodded, and they spent the rest of the ride in relative silence.

But even with that matter temporarily settled, something was still bothering Alfred. What if what he had thought before was right? What if Abaddon wasn't real?

No. Abaddon was real. It had to be. How could it not? Alfred would never be creative enough to create such a world out of nothing. He had always been more of a scientist, not a writer or an artist.

Not to mention that the time he had spent there felt so real. The creatures he had seen, the people he met, Kenya, China, England…England!

How the hell could he have made up England? If he was making everything up, Alfred would have bothered to make himself hang out with someone less…temperamental. Or something.

But Alfred was starting to get a bad feeling. The scientist in him was trying to rationalize his situation.

If Alfred was reading about someone other than him going through this, Alfred would assume they were going crazy. Having hallucinations made much more sense than a magical world.

And, really, the only physical proof that Alfred had that this was all happening were the burn marks on the back of his neck. Which were already healing.

And even if his step-mom had seen them too, Alfred could have gotten the injuries from something else.

Not to mention Alfred's family history of mental illness. Alfred had enough first-hand experience of that, he knew better than to just push away the theory of Abaddon not being real simply because he didn't want it to be true.

His best hope at finding out the truth would be to ask his grandfather.

* * *

He had a plan.

"Hey, Gramps?" Alfred asked, once everyone had settled at the table for dinner. "About the ring you gave me…"

Gramps paused right as he was about to put a piece of sausage in his mouth. His demeanor changed, and he slowly put the fork down. He was giving Alfred a cautious look, but he still gave out a kind vibe. "Are you liking it?"

"Yeah." Alfred said, "But I was just wondering…"

"Wondering what?" Gramps said, his voice becoming slightly stiff.

"Who made the ring anyways?" Alfred asked. Gramps visibly relaxed after the question, and began eating again.

"Well," Gramps said after finally eating his sausage, "One of our ancestors made it. My great-grandfather, and your great-great-great grandfather. At least that's how I think it works."

"Oh." Alfred said, thinking it was kind of cool that his relatives had made the ring as well as worn it. But knowing that he was related to him wasn't going to help him out very much. "So what was his name?"

Gramps smiled. "You're curious, huh? Name was Frederick Jones. My own pops used to talk about him a lot. He immigrated over here from England, married a native girl. He made a lot of jewelry in his time. He was a good man, at least, that's what I've heard."

"Thanks!" Alfred said, and began to eat his dinner. Now he had a name to give to England.

He wondered if England would find it funny that the maker of the ring and his ancestor had come from, well, England. This was certainly the first time Alfred had heard about it. He had long known that there was some Native America in him (not that it really showed) from his Gramps's side, but he had never heard anything about England.

It was kind of funny to think that he and England were connected in that small way. That is, it was funny until Alfred remembered the fact that England might not be real.

But Alfred had a plan. Asking Gramps about who made the ring was just the first stage. The next stage would have to wait until after dinner, when everyone else had gone upstairs to their room.

It was then that Alfred planned to go to his own room, where Gramps was currently sleeping, and ask about Abaddon. There was no way he could ask during dinner. Everyone else in his family would think he was crazy, especially since Alfred was technically the only one related to Gramps. That was assuming for now that everyone in that side of his family went to Abaddon when they wore the ring. Which he had to assume. He refused to give up on Abaddon yet.

So he spent the rest of dinner eating and talking general small talk. It was when everyone had finished and gone to their separate rooms that Alfred acted.

He waited a while, for Matthew to get settled, before saying he would check up on Gramps. Matthew nodded, already beginning to play his online game on his computer, and Alfred was able to exit the room quietly.

Alfred's room was only a few doors away from Matthew's, so it didn't take him long to walk there.

Usually Alfred would just barge straight into a room when he wanted to talk to someone. But this was his grandfather, who was starting to get a bit old now, and he didn't want to surprise him too much. So Alfred approached the door slowly, ready to knock to ask his Gramps if he could come in.

Just as he was about to give the door a few sturdy knocks, Alfred heard it. Voices.

The noise didn't travel well through the door, so Alfred was only able to understand a few words.

"You should tell Alfred….He deserves to know." Alfred heard, recognizing the voice that belonged to his dad. Why was he talking to Gramps? Not that he couldn't, it was just strange that he would go to such a lengths to talk to him alone (Alfred ignored the fact that he had just been about to do the same).

"What would…" Alfred could barely hear the words that Gramps was saying. "book do?...Bad enough memories already…ruined. No need to…stain even more."

What in the world were they talking about? Were they hiding something from him? Alfred knew that, as a hero, it was bad to eavesdrop. But if they were talking about him…it could even be about Abaddon. Alfred had to know.

There were a few more exchanges between his father and Gramps before Alfred could understand something again. This time he could hear it clearly.

"Emma would have wanted him to read it!" Dad said. It wasn't really a yell, but it was a lot louder then what he had been saying before.

A pit of dread pooled into Alfred's stomach. Emma. Why the hell were they talking about his mother? And why would she want him to read something?

"You couldn't have known what she would want! " Gramps' reply, however, was definitely a yell. What he said next was said with a lower volume, but Alfred was still able to hear it because of the strong tone behind the words. "She was already too far gone by then."

Was it Alfred's imagination, or were they heading closer to the door? It was easier to hear their voices now. But were they about to leave the room? Alfred would be in serious trouble if they caught him eavesdropping. But he couldn't make himself leave. He had to hear more.

"…What was in it?" Dad asked, sounding extremely tired.

"It started normal…" Alfred nearly swore. Why couldn't his grandfather speak louder? "-ons. I almost didn't give….to Alfred. It's all nonsense though. No such thing as magic…She had lost it..."

Alfred couldn't believe what he was hearing. He could only understand a few words, but he was able to get the gist of the conversation.

His mother had had something. A book, or something like that. That his dad wanted him to have… Like hell he would ever want something like that from her.

And why had his grandfather said magic wasn't real? If he knew about Abaddon, then he would know that wasn't true…Did that mean Gramps had never been to Abaddon?

Was there actually an Abaddon?

In that moment, Alfred had never felt so alone. He was going crazy.

He was becoming just like _her._

Alfred went back to Matthew's room, before either his dad or Gramps could come out and catch him listening.

Alfred collapsed on his bed, definitely not feeling up to playing games with Matthew.

He allowed sleep to come over him. He would go back to Abaddon, whether or not it was just a hallucination or not. At least he wasn't alone there.

* * *

Arthur was having quite the dinner show. While eating his gnocchi, a nice pasta-like dish, he was also able to enjoy the lovely view of Spain being pummeled by South Italy.

Arthur had begun to eat regularly at the Italys' restaurant, not bothering to look for anywhere else to eat, and had gotten used to the scene of Spain being punched by the more irritable of the two Italys.

The daft Spaniard usually brought it on himself, first by coming to the place much more often than necessary to drop off fruits and vegetables for the restaurant, and second by usually saying something stupid that would upset South Italy (Arthur had finally managed to tell the two apart, based on their attitudes and curl placements). It was almost sad, really.

Not that Arthur wasn't enjoying it. He was, immensely. Ever since he and Spain had gotten into a…fight of sorts long ago (Arthur was proud to say that he had won), Arthur had come to enjoy seeing the fool being punished.

With eating wonderful food and seeing Spain verbally abused, Arthur's meal would have been perfect. If it weren't for the fact that North Italy kept staring at him.

Really, Arthur had gotten used to both of the Italys being scared of him (for reasons Arthur still couldn't fathom), but this staring was getting ridiculous. Arthur had half a mind to ask what the bloody hell the boy's problem was.

Arthur finished his gnocchi, and was ready to go (Italy's staring was a bit unnerving), when North Italy began to slowly walk towards him.

It was such a slow process of walking that Arthur thought at first that he was imagining it. Maybe, with everything that has happened, Arthur's paranoia was taking over….

But no. North Italy was clearly coming towards him. He looked hesitant (as if he was still scared of Arthur for some reason), and Arthur could even swore that he saw South Italy (who had taken a moment to pry his attention away from Spain) urge him on silently.

When North Italy saw that Arthur was watching him, he seemed to give up any pretence he might have had and speed-walked over to Arthur's table.

"Ve…uh…England?" North Italy said, not making eye contact.

"Yes?" Arthur asked, wondering what the hell the boy would want with him (he had already paid for his food).

"Would you…ve…would you m-mind…" Italy was looking more and more nervous. Really, why was he so scared of him?

"Just spit it out!" Arthur said, getting annoyed with Italy's ramblings.

"Ve!" Italy nearly shrieked, surprised by Arthur's outburst, before he quickly relayed his request. "Wouldyouminddoingajobforus?"

Italy talked so fast that it was nearly impossible for Arthur to understand, but he was able to get the gist of what he was asking. "A job? You want me to do a job?"

North Italy nodded.

"Well. What kind of job is it?" Arthur was not desperate for jobs. He had been doing quite well lately, and he didn't need to take any job he could get. But it was true that all the expense that he now needed for food was taking out of his budget and, now that he had his beloved sofa, it would be nice to get a rug…

"Ve…you see, someone's been stealing our food." North Italy explained. "Well, I don't really think it's someone, but something, because I don't think anyone would be mean enough to steal our food, because I try to be really nice to everyone and even though Romano can be a little mean sometimes he's only really like that to Spain, me, Germany, or Prussia and never the customers so-"

"Wait. You don't think a person is the one stealing your food?" Arthur asked.

North Italy shook his head. "Brother says I imagined it. But the other night when I was packing up the restaurant, I heard a noise…and it was so scary, ve, because brother was gone and Germany wasn't there and I was all alone. And suddenly there was this noise and there was this big dark scary thing! But I was able to run away really fast, and when I came back it wasn't there anymore but all our food was gone!"

"But Germany believes me….Kinda. But, anyways, brother says we can't have someone getting our food. So we were wondering if you could do some magic and find out who did it?"

That sounded like a simple enough job. It would just take a tracing spell. Though, if what Italy thought was true, he might have to be prepared to face some stray monster.

"Alright. I'll do it. You want me to do it now?" Arthur asked, getting up from his table.

North Italy shook his head. "Ve, would you mind coming back in twenty minutes or so? We have to wait for Germany and Prussia to get back, so they can tell the person not to steal from us again!"

Well, that was fine. It was nearly time for Arthur to head back to his house, America would be there in a few minutes. Who knew what kind of trouble the git could get into if Arthur left him alone for too long…

"Excellent. I'll be back in a few then." Arthur said, giving a farewell to North Italy and heading home.

Arthur made it home without any problems, thankfully. He opened the door to find America already dressed and waiting for him. But, instead of bouncing around his house like usual, he was sitting still on England's new sofa. It was a bit unnerving, seeing America so unenergetic.

"Hey England." America gave a small wave. "You got a new couch."

"Yes, I did." Arthur replied, not really sure what to say. Usually America was able to offer better conversation starters.

"It's a little bumpy." America said, bumping up and down for a few moments before going still.

"Would you like to comment on anything else in my house or are you satisfied?" Arthur retorted, not taking kindly to America insulting his sole piece of furniture.

Instead of America coming back with another insult, like Arthur expected, America looked down at his hands and said nothing.

"America?" Arthur asked, starting to become just a little concerned. America was supposed to say something-not just sit there. "America, are you alright?"

He didn't look…right. He wasn't smiling. It didn't sit well with Arthur.

America didn't respond, and the following silence only served to make Arthur even more worried (no, concerned, he wasn't worried).

"H-hey. What's wrong?" Arthur said, hesitating for a moment before deciding to sit alongside America on the farthest side of the sofa.

America looked up, his blue eyes looking more watery than usual. "Nothing's wrong!" He said, giving a thumbs up and a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"That's bollocks." Arthur said, easily calling the bluff. "Now tell me what's wrong."

America's smile fell. "You caught me. Well, I guess a hero's not supposed to lie…right?"

"No. They're not." Arthur said, giving a small unsure smile, deciding to humour America's hero complex for once.

"I think I'm going crazy."

America looked straight into Arthur's eyes. He was scared.

"America." Arthur said, trying to speak as gently as he could. "You're not crazy. I know how unbelievable this can be, going into a new world when you sleep and all, but you'll get used to it eventually-"

"No." America shook his head. "That's not it. Well, part of it is. I thought I had gotten used to it already, but today, at school…" America paused.

"I-I saw something. The same _thing_ that I saw the night I first came to Abaddon and when you guys took off my ring. But I was awake. And-and I tried to show everyone else! But they…they didn't see it. Only I saw it."

There was an eerie silence as Arthur let that sink in. He remembered how America had described the thing he had seen at those moments…black mass, fangs, red eyes. Arthur had never really dealt with anything like that before.

"And what if I'm just imagining it?" America said after a moment. "What if I'm imagining all of this? The thing, Abaddon, you- what if none of this is real? Heck, me being crazy sounds like a better explanation for this then other worlds and stuff."

"America…" Arthur unconsciously moved his hand a fraction of an inch towards America.

"And even if I'm not, if I tell anyone, they'll think I'm insane! I barely avoided being sent to the crazy house today. All it would take is one- _one_ incident. And bam! Looney pills!"

"America." Arthur fully moved his hand, letting it rest just by America's in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. "You're not crazy. You're family isn't going to just send you to an asylum over one thing. Once Japan and I figure out what is wrong with your ring, I'm sure you'll stop seeing this ghost or whatever it is."

"You think so?" America asked, sounding a bit more hopeful.

"I know so." Arthur said, even though he did not. He certainly hoped it would stop, but Arthur thought that America wanted a bit more then hopes at the moment.

"Oh. That reminds me." America said. "I asked my Gramps, and he said the ring was made by Frederick Jones. If that helps."

"I'm sure it will." Arthur said.

America didn't fully relax though, and after a few seconds, he moved his hand away from Arthur's. He tried not to let that get to him.

"I want to believe you." America said, moving his head down to look at his hands in his lap. "I really do. But what if you're not real? What if I'm just making you up? What if…What if I'm becoming like her?" The last statement was said in such a whisper that Arthur almost didn't hear it. "I don't—I want this to be real! But I just can't be sure. There's just too big of a chance that I'm going…that I'm imagining this"

America was looking at the floor now, his hair blocking his face. "I can't be like her." He repeated, his voice starting to become raspy.

Arthur didn't know what to do. He had never dealt with America like this. In the short time he had known him, America had been mostly carefree and enthusiastic. Even when he had been scared out of his mind, he had never acted so…so desperate.

"Like who?" Arthur asked, not sure if it was any of his business but frankly not caring. There had to be a reason why this was affecting America so much. And Arthur felt compelled to know what it was.

"Oh…I kinda said that out loud, didn't I?" America said, finally looking at Arthur. His eyes were starting to go red, and America rubbed his nose with the back of his hand.

"Yes, twice." Arthur said and, after a small pause, added a "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"Nah, I probably should." America said, shifting his body so he was facing Arthur more directly. "Besides, if you're not real, it doesn't matter anyway. And if you are, I doubt you'll be able to tell anyone at my school or anything. With the whole you either being in Abaddon or England thing."

Arthur nodded, prompting America to explain. "My mom died when I was a kid. She was, well, she was pretty sick. I don't remember a lot about her, but the stuff I do remember…it isn't nice. She would yell at things that weren't there…she always thought that something was out to get her. There wasn't of course, she simply wasn't right in the head. My dad and my Gramps said she wasn't always like that…that she used to be normal. And then, a few years after I was born, she just snapped. Totally out of the blue. My dad says it was little things at first, and then it just got worse and worse until…well, some shit went down. This stuff happened and-and she just wanted to get away from whatever she thought was chasing her. She even thought that…" America paused.

"Are you alright?" Arthur asked.

America nodded. "Yeah, yeah I'm okay…Anyways, she ended up killing herself." America paused again, biting his lip. "And it's not that that's really bothering me, I went to therapy years ago and it doesn't hurt as much as it used to, it's just that…She was normal. And then-and then she just lost it. Even if I don't like to think of her a lot, she was still my mom, and I was still related to her. What if…what if I'm the one who's losing it now? What if all these Abaddon and dark monster stuff if just the beginning of me turning into her?"

Arthur was still in shock for a moment because, really, what was the proper response to that? But he recovered soon enough, because America was looking at his with those eyes of his, just asking for him to say something. So he did.

"Well…I'm sorry to hear about your mother and all, but personally I'm a little offended that you think you've made me up." Arthur said, crossing his arms over his chest. "I think I'm a bit too complex for someone like you to create entirely in your own head."

He was a bit worried that America might take his comment the wrong way, but this was the only way he knew how to respond to such things. Arthur was never good with people's personal problems, and he often resorted to sarcasm and insults whenever he encountered them.

Thankfully, Alfred's open mouthed expression showed more surprise then offense.

"Besides, if you're so bent on thinking that I'm not real, then I'd be happy to prove you wrong. I assume you have Facebook? You look like the type who obsesses over such social wastelands."

Alfred seemed to break out of his surprise long enough to nod. "Um, yeah…Do you?"

"Unfortunately. My younger brother made one for me and it should still be up…What I'm trying to say is that you would simply need to find my Facebook if you wanted to see whether or not I'm real."

America looked at him as if Arthur had offered him an answer to everything, until a sudden realization reached him. "Um, England? it's not like I can just type in 'England' and get your profile."

"No, of course not. That would be ridiculous. That's why I'm going to tell you my real name."

America looked wide eyed at this. "But-but I thought that was supposed to be a bad thing to do. Can't you, like, die or something?"

"…in some cases, yes." Arthur admitted, "But I highly doubt you would be the type to do something like that, even ignoring the fact that you don't have any magic to curse me with. And don't question me! It's not like I _want_ to give you my name or anything. It's just that if giving it can convince you that you're not going insane- I mean, that I'm real, then I'll do it. But listen up, because I'm only going to say it once."

Arthur hoped America would ignore the blush that he could feel coming on. Even though he was trying to act like it wasn't a big deal, Arthur had never really given his real name to anyone in Abaddon before. It was true that Francis knew it, but that was only because they had met before they both came to Abaddon, and the idea of willingly giving America his name was…embarrassing .

He preferred to keep his life as 'England' and his life as 'Arthur' separated. But if giving his real name to America would help him then…then he was willing to do it.

Not that he cared about the idiot or anything. Because he didn't.

Arthur took a deep breath and, after a quick check around the house to see if no one else was there, said. "My name is Arthur Kirkland."

America smiled and took Arthur's hand in a firm handshake. "Nice to meet ya Arthur! Can I call you Artie?"

"No. And you're cutting off the circulation in my hand." Arthur pulled his hand away, but gave America a small smirk. It was good to see him back to normal.

"Whatever you say Artie! So, what are we gonna do today?" America stood up from the couch, looking ready to go. It was as if his...breakdown of sorts had never happened. Arthur was sure that America wasn't over it, but he appreciated the fact that America was willing to let it be for now. Hopefully giving him his name would eventually end those thoughts entirely.

"I just told you, don't call me that!" Arthur chastised, before he remembered Italy. Shite! He was supposed to have met back with him by now! He had just gotten distracted what with America and…well, Arthur supposed that being late was better than never showing up.

"We're going to do a quick job, so follow me." Arthur said, walking out of the house while America followed him.

By the time both Arthur and America made it back to the Italy's restaurant, there was a small group waiting for them. Arthur nearly groaned when he saw the familiar white haired buffoon standing amongst them.

"Oi! England, what the hell took so long! My awesomeness waits for no one!" Prussia, who Arthur had (unfortunately) experience with, yelled as he saw them coming.

"I apologize Italy, I got a bit distracted." Arthur said to North Italy, ignoring Prussia. "I assume you're ready for me to do the spell?"

"Ve~ It's okay!" North Italy said, while South Italy grumbled something along the lines of "inconsiderate eyebrow bastard." He chose to ignore South Italy as well.

"Yup, we're ready! Germany and Prussia are here, is it okay if they stay?" North Italy asked. "After we find out who did it, they're gonna ask the person to stop!" He said with a cheery smile. Arthur doubted that 'asking' was exactly what Germany and Prussia had in mind, but it wasn't his business.

"It's fine, they won't get in the way of my spell." Arthur said.

Germany gave Arthur a greeting nod, which Arthur returned curtly. Germany was easy to deal with most of the time, seeing as he was one of the few people in Abaddon who seemed to have some sense about them. It was really too bad that he was nearly always with Prussia….Arthur swore that if he heard the albino talk about his 'awesomeness' one more time, he was going to throw a fire ball at him.

As if on cue, Prussia again spoke up. "Hey, who's the blond kid?"

Before Arthur could say anything, America introduced himself. "I'm not a kid! And I'm America! Who are you guys?"

"Oohh! A new kid! Isn't that exciting Germany?" North Italy asked, jumping up and down and poking the stern blond in excitement.

"What the hell is he doing here? He's just going to get in the way." South Italy said while simultaneously glaring at Germany (who had put a hand on North Italy's head in an effort to calm him down).

"Hey, new kid, have you seen any monsters yet? I kill a bunch of 'em every day! You should come along with me and West and see my awesomeness in action, instead of hanging around with old droopy eyebrows here." Prussia said, throwing a friendly arm over a slightly confused America's shoulder.

"Prussia, get the hell of him. Can I just get this spell done with so we can leave you to do…whatever it is that you normally do." Arthur said in frustration. He was not in the mood for Prussia's insults.

Prussia raised an eyebrow, but moved his arm away from America. "I'm just waiting for you to start. It's not my fault that you're boring me."

Arthur clenched his teeth, trying his best not to come back with a sharp retort, and began his spell.

It was a simple tracer spell, just something to tell him who exactly it was coming into Italy's restaurant and stealing food. Anyone (or anything, Arthur absentmindedly added) who had ever visited this place would have left a trace of themselves, their aura in other words, in the restaurant. All Arthur would need to do was look at which aura, besides the Italys, had repeatedly come into the restaurant when it was closed.

It didn't take long for Arthur to find it. There was a thin trace of murky purple that kept reappearing as Arthur went over the restaurant's daily history. It was easy to see, as it had a very different feel to it compared to any of the other auras.

Arthur concentrated on that aura, trying to see who it belonged to. As he examined it closer, he started to see a thin trace of black intermingling with the purple, something he hadn't noticed earlier. However, before Arthur could figure out what that meant, the owner of the aura appeared before his eyes.

It was a monster. A purple, the same shade as the aura, lizard like creature that was covered in spikes. A black cloud was hovering over the lizard, and just as soon as Arthur had noticed it, the black cloud headed straight for him.

A rush of pain broke Arthur out of the spell, and he fell back in surprise.

He hit against something warm and solid, and opened his eyes to see that America had caught him.

"Ar-England? Are you okay? What happened?" America asked, the blue eyes behind his glasses wide with concern.

Arthur was still in such a state of surprise that he stayed in America's arms longer than he intended (that was the only reason, really, it wasn't like it was warm or pleasant there or anything) before he was able to get back up on his feet.

"Ah-well, that was unexpected. Italy, or Italys rather, I'm afraid that you have a monster on your hands. Some lizard I'm afraid. It's the one that's been stealing your food, not some thief." Arthur said, trying to compose himself.

"Eek! I told you Germany! Is it here? Ve!" North Italy shrieked, hiding behind Germany in a panic.

"Get-get a h-hold of yourself!" South Italy said, although he seemed just as scared, trying to hide behind his brother.

"Stop panicking you two, it's probably in the woods right now." Germany said tiredly, looking as if he was used to things like this.

"Yeah! Never fear Italys! Me and West, but mostly me, will totally take down any monster that's stealing your food!" Prussia said, looking delighted at the chance to take on a monster.

"You'll need me to track it down for you if you're going to do that." Arthur said, "There's no way you'll find it just gallivanting in the woods."

It wasn't like Arthur to offer up his services like that, usually he would have just left it to Prussia and Germany (who were professional monster hunters after all, it was from them that the Italys got most of their meat), but there was something about this situation that was bothering him. What in the world was that black cloud he had seen? And why had it attacked him? Not to mention how strange it was for a monster to go into Abaddon unnoticed…

"Can I go too?" America said, looking excited. "I got strength now, right? It would be awesome if I could fight with you guys! Imagine when I tell Mattie that I've beaten up a monster!"

Prussia looked at him, as if examining his worth. "Okay, first of all. Don't use the word awesome in my presence. That's my word, not yours. Only _I'm_ awesome enough to use it correctly. And second of all, super strength you say? Could come in handy. And if eyebrows is coming, I'm gonna need someone around who doesn't have a huge stick up their ass. I get enough of that with West here." Prussia said, pointing to Germany (who, for his part, just sighed).

"Okay! It's decided, you can come." Prussia said, patting America on the back.

"Now-now wait just a second. I'm the one in charge of him! You can't just-" Arthur protested, before Prussia interrupted him.

"Come on England! Loosen up a little! Let the kid have a little fun!" Prussia said, wrapping his arm around America's shoulders (again). Seeing Prussia doing that really made Arthur want to punch him…

Before he could break Prussia's nose, America looked up at him with the most pathetic look he had ever seen. "Please? I'll be useful, I promise." America said, looking like a puppy that had just been kicked.

Arthur stopped, rendered immobile by the look, before he surrendered. "Fine. But that means I'll have to get you armour. I won't have you running into a fight with jeans and a t-shirt being the only things standing in the way of you being impaled."

America's face lit up, and he pumped a fist into the air. "Alright! I promise you won't regret it!"

"I doubt that…" Arthur mumbled.

They (meaning mostly Germany and Arthur) spent the rest of the time planning to meet each other again tomorrow. Seeing as the threat was now a monster, instead of a person as they had originally thought, that meant that they had to prepare.

They needed supplies if they were to go into the monster-infested woods. And, most importantly, Arthur had to get America armour. If he was so intent on fighting, there was no way Arthur could stop him from running into battle like the idiot he was (Arthur knew that much from their last encounter with a monster). The least he could do was make sure the idiot didn't kill himself.

Which meant that they would have to visit Francis, who was awake by now, tomorrow. Together.

Arthur was not looking forward to tomorrow.

* * *

Yay! So the next chapter will be pretty action packed, and a few more characters will be introduced (not OCs, thankfully). I'm looking forward...but I probably won't be able to bring it up for another two weeks. Sorry guys ^_^"

Anyways, a bit of back story times. I don't know if anyone you guys are interested in this, but both Alfred's mom and dad have the surname 'Jones'. Which is why Alfred's ancestor on his mother's side has the Jones surname. It was actually how his parent met, cause they were always put next to each other in college classes because of that, but that's not really important. So yeah, just to clear up any confusion. And Matthew kept his dad's last name. So yeah. I have no idea why I kinda obsess over their last names, but whatever.

Also, if anyone is curious, both North and South Italy's 'gift', or enhanced trait or whatever, isn't their cooking. It's their running. XD

Next chapter is Francis, as well as more Prussia and Germany (along with a couple of other people). So see you guys then~


	8. Chapter 8

Hey guys! Look who's not dead! Okay, I'm really really sorry it's taken so long to get this chapter up. But real life has been kind of kicking me in the ass for the past months. I won't go into too much detail, but it basically began with me getting really sick for about a whole month, having to make up all the school I missed (technically I could have been expelled, but I'm boss at keeping up my grades soo~), dealing with two deaths, finishing my senior project, finishing up applying to college, keeping my grades up, graduating, AND getting a job. Phew.

But it's officially summer now! So I have WAAY more time, time which will be spent writing. Oh man, I've missed this story (and you guys) so much. But now I can get back to it! Originally there was more to this chapter, but I figured I made you guys wait long enough. So here it is!

* * *

"Alfred?"

His fingers hovered over the keyboard.

"Alfred? You've been staring at that computer screen for five minutes now."

He should type in the name. That was why he had pulled out the site, right? So why was it so hard to type in a simple name?

"Ouch!" Alfred said as Chelle hit his arm.

"That's what you get for ignoring me!" She said, standing in front of his desk.

"Sorry, I must have zoned out or something." Alfred apologized, rubbing the back of his neck. Why was he so scared to type in England's name? What did he have to lose?

Besides knowing for sure whether or not he was going insane.

"What are you doing on that computer?" Chelle asked, "Don't tell me it's Facebook again."

"It is." Chelle confirmed as she moved to look at the computer. "So what are you doing?"

"Uh…looking up an old friend." Alfred replied, not moving his eyes away from his computer screen.

In a way, he was grateful to Chelle for showing up. The very first thing Alfred did when he got to school that morning was take out his computer, to verify what England had told him last night in Abaddon.

He had been staring at the computer screen, which was opened to his home-page on Facebook, for what felt like hours, trying to work up the courage to type in that one name.

That was all it would take. Just type in the name and boom. Find out if he's insane or not. He was just having trouble actually doing it.

But now that Chelle was standing over his shoulder like that, he would look stupid if he didn't do something soon. So he might as well do it now, get it over with.

In the search bar, Alfred typed in: Arthur Kirkland.

Only about ten results came up, which was a bit strange because Alfred thought that both 'Arthur' and 'Kirkland' were both common enough names. But he wasn't complaining, since only ten results meant a faster sanity check.

Alfred scanned over the names, as well as the pictures that accompanied them, and it wasn't long until he found what he was looking for. Those eyebrows were hard to miss, even in that small picture.

Alfred could barely believe it, but when he clicked on the name (Arthur Kirkland, London), there he was.

The same messy blond hair, the same bushy eyebrows, the same vibrant green eyes…

It was Arthur alright. And he was, undoubtedly, real.

Alfred almost felt like crying.

"Oh! He's cute. Weird eyebrows though. So how do you know him?" Chelle said, bringing Alfred back to reality.

"C-cute? How can you think he's…I mean, I guess. If you're into that." Alfred said, while Chelles gave an annoying, almost knowing, smile. How could she think Arthur was _cute?_

Sure, the way his eyebrows always crunched up could be thought of as...adorable. And if you were someone who liked guys, you might even think that the way that his green eyes sort of lit up when he was happy were gorgeo-nice. And the small smile that sometimes tugged at the corners of his lips when Alfred managed not to mess things up was beaut-nice too. Even the way he smelled, a pleasant almost-earthy smell from all of the herbs he worked with, could be considered nice too. If you liked guys that is. Which Alfred didn't.

He was just good at noticing things like that.

"Sure…" Chelle said, walking back to her own desk. "Have fun stalking!"

"I am not-" Alfred began, but stopped when he realized that Chelle was no longer paying attention to him, instead talking about something or another with Toris. Probably about what had just happened, if Toris' glances his way were anything to go by.

_Whatever_, Alfred thought,_ they can think what they want._

Alfred than spent the rest of the time before class started looking at Arthur's pictures and information.

It was obvious that Arthur wasn't the one who created, or actually managed, his Facebook. His profile information itself gave that away.

_Hello. My name is Arthur Kirkland and I'm a big fat jerk. My cooking sucks and I have an attitude problem and I think my brother Peter is the most awesome kid ever! You should totally befriend him and not me, an arse! _

Alfred had to almost stop himself from laughing. Arthur's brother, because it was obviously him who wrote it, was definitely good at describing him.

There were a lot of pictures for someone Alfred had always assumed was camera shy. Though, when he looked closer, most of the pictures looked like they were taken without Arthur's knowledge or permission.

It was cool to see this part of Arthur, different from the England that Alfred was getting to know. Not really different though, as the Arthur in the pictures usually did what England did. Scowl, give glares (when he seemed to realize someone was taking a picture of him), and generally look like he had a stick up his ass.

But there were some pictures that looked different. Like the ones where he was drinking tea or reading from a book. In those ones his face looked relaxed, content.

Alfred suddenly had the wish to see Arthur look more like that.

But before Alfred could think further on how embarrassing that thought was, the teacher walked into class.

"Laptops closed everyone! Now let's get to talking about the state of equilibrium…."

* * *

Arthur was about half-way home from Italy's restaurant when he was roughly pulled aside by his arm.

"Relax." A stern female voice whispered before Arthur had the chance to finish his defense spell.

Arthur wasn't exactly convinced until he saw that it was Vietnam who had pulled him aside.

"Vietnam? What the bloody hell are you doing?" Arthur asked, ripping his arm away from the Asian woman's grip.

"I'm helping you. You're still stuck here, aren't you?" She replied, narrowing her eyes at him.

Arthur grumbled, and Vietnam took that as a yes.

"Look, I have information. About your…circumstances. I thought you might like to hear it. Was I wrong?"

"Oh. Have at it then." Arthur said, hoping that the information would help him get out of Abaddon.

"I talked to Denmark. He said Norway hadn't mentioned anything about not being able to wake up. They had only just gotten to Abaddon, so it wouldn't make sense for Norway to notice that if it had happened."

"Oh." Arthur said, feeling a bit disappointed.

"But I did do some more research. Apparently it's happened before. Being stuck in Abaddon."

"To who?" Arthur asked, starting to feel a little bit of hope.

"A woman named Egypt. She's long gone by now…That was all I could find out. You'd have to go find out more yourself." Vietnam explained.

"From who?" Arthur asked, too hopeful about this new information to ask why Vietnam expected him to be able to get more information than herself.

Thankfully, Vietnam was able to answer that without any prompting. "From Rome. I wasn't able to talk to him directly, I was only able to find as much as I told you from the head of the guards. Apparently Rome and China had some fight in the past…some bullshit. I don't know, but whatever it was, it was enough that Rome refuses to talk to anyone who is a part of China's 'group'."

Vietnam paused for a moment, as if remembering something, before she spoke again. "I need you to find out what happened. You're not…not aligned with anyone. I need you to find out and to tell me. Agreed?"

Arthur nodded. "Agreed." Telling Vietnam what he found out would be the least he could do for her.

"Until we meet again." Vietnam said, walking away and leaving Arthur alone once again.

So what was happening to him had happened to someone else before? He wasn't-wasn't the only one that this had happened to.

Somehow, the thought helped. If someone else could get out of this situation, then by God he could. He was Arthur Kirkland, an extremely powerful wizard!

His confidence went up at that, and Arthur made a mental note to see Rome as soon as he could. It was too bad that he hadn't heard this from Vietnam earlier. He could have spent the day getting information, instead of gathering herbs and stuffing his face with Italy's food. But now he didn't have any time, seeing as America would be asleep soon. They needed all the time they could to get America armour in time to meet up with Prussia and Germany.

He would just have to go and see Rome tomorrow. After all, it wasn't like Arthur had a shortage of time.

Arthur opened the door to his house, only to be suddenly tackled.

"What the hell?" Arthur tried to keep himself from falling down, but it was hard considering his arms and hands were now pinned to the tackling person's chest (as his first instinct was to try and push the attacker away). It was unnecessary though, as whoever had tackled him was also making sure he didn't fall over.

"Artie! You're real! You're really real!"

It was America. Of course. And it was in that moment, though it honestly should have been sooner, that Arthur realized he was being hugged, not tackled.

"Of course I'm real!" Arthur shouted, before realizing this situation he was in and how…_close_ America was. "G-get off me you git!"

But America wouldn't let go, and even gave Arthur a tighter squeeze. "You were on Facebook, just like you said! I'm not going crazy!"

Arthur did his best to ignore the blush stubbornly climbing from his neck into his face. "Well…yes. That was the whole reason why I gave you my name." America smelled like…soap, which made sense since he probably took a shower before going to bed, even though Arthur had taken America for a morning shower person….okay. His brain needed to stop that train of thought.

"Get off of me!" Arthur said again, and this time America obliged, looking a bit sheepish.

"Oh…uh, sorry. Guess I got a little carried away there."

"It's…it's fine." Arthur said, before remembering what America had called him. "And my name isn't Artie!" Arthur had been hoping that America would forget the little 'nickname' that he had come up with the other night. Apparently that wasn't the case

"Aww, but you know you like it. Artie." America added, for extra measure.

"Sod off." Arthur said, half-giving up. "Just don't use that in front of anyone else. Frankly, 'Artie' is too similar to 'Arthur' for me to feel comfortable."

"Okay, okay. So we're gonna go and fight monsters today, right?"

"First of all, we aren't going to be fighting monsters. Hopefully, anyways. We're just tracking the one that's been stealing Italy's food. If everything goes according to plan, Germany and Prussia will be doing the fighting. And we aren't going anywhere until we get you some armour." Arthur explained.

"I get armour? Sweet!" America said, looking excited.

"Yes…Since you _insisted_ on coming on this trip, I'm not about to have you get impaled by some renegade monster."

"But I thought you said we weren't fighting any monsters?" America said, smiling.

"I-It's just in case!" Arthur said, causing America to smile wider.

Arthur sighed. "Just forget it. Come on, we have to go to the armour shop."

Arthur began heading towards Francis' shop, America following enthusiastically.

* * *

Alfred was looking forward to this. Not so much for the shopping for armor stuff, but for the stuff he would be able to do after he got it.

England (He had gotten used to referring to Arthur as such) and China had said that he had super strength, had said that was his gift. Alfred could believe it. Whenever he was in Abaddon, he just felt…stronger. Like when he had tackled Arthur earlier (it had been an impulse, and Alfred had never been good at resisting impulses), he had barely had to use any strength to squeeze him. But a little more than he had expected…England was a lot stronger than he looked.

Alfred was looking forward to fully testing out his super strength.

"Is this the place?" Alfred asked as England stopped in front of a small shop.

"Yes-"

"Alright!" Alfred said, starting to head into the shop. He was stopped, however, when he felt England's hand on his shoulder.

England quickly removed the hand as soon as Alfred turned towards him. "Uh, America. Before we go in there, you should know that the owner of the shop, France, is…he's a bit-"

Before England could finish, a figure walked out from the shop.

"Ah, England! It's been so long—Oh, who is this?" The blond man (Alfred had almost thought it was a girl at first, what with the length of the hair, but there was very clearly stubble on his chin) walked towards the two of them. He headed towards England, looking like he was about to grab him in a greeting hug, but stopped when he noticed Alfred.

The man then sauntered (yes, sauntered) towards him and grabbed Alfred's hand.

"Hello darling. Are you new here? I don't think I've ever seen your lovely face around here before." The man said, his voice low and sultry. Alfred felt the man give his hand a kiss. "Has England been hiding you from me?"

"Uh…." Alfred seriously had no idea how to react to that….and was that guy coming closer? Luckily, England reacted for him.

"Get your bloody hands off him you frog! Do you have to molest every person you meet?" England said, swatting the man's hand away from Alfred's.

"Oh, are you jealous? I assure you, I have enough love to share with all of you!" The man said, causing Arthur to scoff.

"So you're the owner of the shop I guess?" Alfred said, not really sure what else to do.

Before the man could speak again, England explained. "This, unfortunately, is France." He said, pointing to the man. "And this, frog, is America. He's been here since…my incident, and I've been looking after him. He needs armor."

"England, you hurt me so. Two days have gone without you visiting me, and now I find out that you've been hiding such a treat from me the whole time?" France said, holding a hand over his heart, as well as giving Alfred a noticeable side glance at the word 'treat'.

"Oh shut it. Could you do us all a favor and make this quick? America needs armor." Arthur snapped.

"I am always happy to help my customers! No matter how _long_ it takes to make them _satisfied_. Please, come inside." France said, putting an arm around both Alfred and England (which England immediately shrugged off) and leading them into the shop.

The inside of the shop was small, but looked classy. There were various different kinds of armor, along with some outfits that looked far too small to offer any good protection.

"Pray tell me, what type of armor would you like?" France said, removing his hand from Alfred's shoulder to gesture around the store.

Alfred had no idea where to start, but luckily England seemed to be familiar with the store.

"If anything, he's going to be doing some basic fighting. Short range combat, most likely. He'll need something that will be able to take blows. And none of those scantily get ups that you seem so fond of." England said, causing France to pout.

"Ah, but I think that America would look magnificent in such an outfit, no?"

"I think I'm good with just regular armor or whatever." Alfred said. No way was he going to walk around half naked around monsters.

"If you insist." France said, waving a hand. "But it's shame, no? Such beauty as yours was meant to be shared with the world." France said in a seductive voice, adding a wink. Even Alfred, who was usually oblivious to such things, noticed the flirting.

It was a bit embarrassing, but still complimenting in a way. Even if Alfred didn't like guys. Cause he didn't. He just wasn't homophobic or anything like that.

"D-don't you have somewhere else to be frog? I think we can take it from here." England said, looking a bit pissed off. Alfred wondered if he was always like that around France, or if it was just today.

"Oh, so cruel England! But I see you want little America all to yourself. So selfish." France said, "But I do have my other beautiful customers to attend to. So I will leave you two alone."

Before France left to go towards a brunette woman looking through the store, he spoke over his shoulder. "I shall return in a few. Try not to get up to _too_ much trouble while I am gone, no?"

"…I hate that man." England murmured after France had left.

"He's...interesting. I guess." Alfred shrugged, not really ready to form an opinion on him. He was a flirt, but he didn't seem that serious. Just really dramatic.

"Hmph. Interesting is a word for it." England said, before sighing. "Well, let's go look for some armour for you then."

Alfred had to admit, most of the outfits in the store looked good. He wasn't exactly an expert on fashion, but he knew enough to tell that France had talent. Even if it was hard to believe that some of the outfits were supposed to be armor. But hey, this was Abaddon after all. Maybe there was some hocus pocus involved or something.

"Hey, Artie?" Alfred asked, after making sure that there wasn't anyone around (they were currently the only people around in the area, with only a small yellow bird a little ways away being near), getting England's attention. (It might have been dangerous to use the nickname, but it reminded him that England was a real person, and made Alfred feel more grounded in reality. Plus it was just more fun to say than 'England'.)

"How come absolutely all of the armor for the girls look like bikinis? I mean, even some of the guy's armors usually covers at least the stomach area." Alfred asked, his curiosity getting the best of him. He never really got the of bikini armor for girls that seemed to appear in every fantasy game he played. And while some of the men's armor was just as bad, Alfred had expected Abaddon of all places, being sort of a real life fantasy-type place, to not follow the common cliché.

"I think it's supposed to be attractive." England said, examining a steel breast plate before putting it away.

For some reason which he didn't really know, Alfred's mind latched onto England's statement. The way England had said 'I think', even though it was said in a dry tone, made Alfred wonder if he really didn't know. Made him wonder if England maybe…

No. He shouldn't be thinking about that. It wasn't that he would have a problem with it, in fact—Okay he had to stop that. It was bad enough with what happened in the morning, when Alfred had thought he was cute. (No, Chelle had said that. He hadn't mentally agreed, not at all).

"Besides, it doesn't truly matter how much the armour covers. It all depends on how much magic France has weaved into it. Which is why he just loves putting people in little to nothing, the bloody pervert." England added, breaking Alfred out of his mental rant.

After searching around for a few more minutes, England and Alfred were able to pick something out. It struck Alfred as some sort of strange hybrid between the fantasy armor he saw in video games, and the football protective gear he wore during the sport's season.

The armor covered his chest and shoulders well enough. There was supposed to be a bottom to it, which looked like a speedo, to complete the outfit, but the two of them agreed to leave that behind.

France came back after they finished choosing, and nodded with approval.

"That will look excellent! Though, I must ask, do you plan on walking around without the bottom half? Not that I'm complaining." France said, raising an eyebrow.

"Get that grin off your face, frog." England snapped. "We were just planning on placing the armour over the clothes America is already wearing. You can do that, can't you?" England challenged.

"Of course! I am personally offended that you think so little of my abilities." France said. "It's a shame though, usually I would have you nude for the fitting…but if you insist on wearing clothes underneath…Such a shame."

France sighed and took out some measuring tape, and then began to take Alfred's measurements. France was, a bit surprisingly from what Alfred had seen of France so far, entirely professional.

France finished quickly, and the serious air he had adopted was dropped as soon as he was done.

"Well, I'll just adjust these quickly, and then you can try it on." France said, "I hate to leave again, but do not worry, I'll return quickly."

France walked away, taking the armor they picked with him, and disappeared into what Alfred guessed was the back of the shop.

"Hey, Ar-" Alfred was cut off from using the nickname by England's glare. "England? If we're going to be fighting monsters, shouldn't I get a sword or something?"

Arthur gave him a look. "You know how to use a sword?"

"It can't be that hard, right? Don't I just swish it around?"

England, instead of scolding him, gave a small amused smile. "I don't think arming you with a sharp object, especially one you don't know how to use, is the best idea."

Alfred grinned. "Aw, come on. You know I'd be awesome. I'd be like Bam! Swish!" Alfred said, mimicking the movements with his arms.

England started to laugh, a surprised snort at first, which grew into a fit of chuckles as Alfred continued the arm motions.

"Fwwsh!"

"St-stop it! You're being blo-bloody ridiculous!" England said between fits of laughter.

"Stop what?" Alfred responded innocently, beginning to make more 'woosh' sounds with the movements.

It was a few minutes before England managed to calm down, even after Alfred had stopped.

It was good to see England laugh, to see him let go. It reminded Alfred of the smile he saw England wear with the pixies. He looked happy. He definitely needed to laugh, and smile, more often.

"Am I interrupting something?" France said, walking towards them with the newly fitted armor.

The smile on England's face was immediately replaced by a scowl, a blush betraying his embarrassment at being caught laughing.

"Of course not!" England protested. "What took you so long?"

"Darling, such beauty as this takes time." France replied, handing the armor to Alfred. "Here, you can just change in the back room. Not that I would mind you changing here, but I don't want our England here to get _too_ excited."

England protested loudly, but Alfred couldn't hear exactly what he said because he nearly ran to the dressing room.

Why did France keep implying stuff like that? Alfred was hardly one to notice such things, but France wasn't exactly being subtle.

Alfred's embarrassment kept him from noticing the strange situation until he was inside the dressing room. Why did he need to be in here? It wasn't like he was taking his clothes off, so why did France make him leave?

But Alfred shook the thought from his mind. Maybe France just wanted Alfred to see how the armor looked on him? There was a mirror in the room after all.

The armor wasn't that hard to put on, it was similar enough to his football protective gear that he was able to figure it out.

It was a bit heavy, but Alfred was sure he would be able to get used to it soon enough. He was still able to move easily, and everything fit perfectly.

And Alfred wasn't narcissistic or anything, but he could tell by looking in the mirror that the armor looked pretty good on him.

Alfred walked out of the dressing room, hoping that he had put everything on right. Usually he wouldn't worry about that, but with England here…Ah no. It was also (no, just) the fact that he was still new in Abaddon, and didn't really know when he was doing something right or not.

Alfred walked back to France and England, only to find….something.

France and England were standing close. Very close. France had an arm wrapped around England's shoulder, and was whispering in his ear. England's face was nearly as red as he had ever seen it. But he wasn't pushing France away. For some reason, that was the worst part.

The sight made Alfred stop in his tracks. Seeing the two like that, so close together, made him feel…not awesome.

It was probably rude to interrupt whatever it was they were doing, but Alfred didn't really care about manners right then.

"Hey guys!" Alfred said, trying to act nonchalantly, "What's up?"

England's blush, if possible, grew darker at the sight of Alfred and he (finally) pushed France away.

"America! You look magnificent." France said, looking unaffected at having been pushed away. "Wouldn't you say so England?" France said to England, wearing a knowing smile.

England gave France a glare, before turning to Alfred. He might have just been imagining it, but England's eyes stayed on him for a few seconds longer than necessary before saying, "It looks fine. We should go now, I don't want to keep Germany and Prussia waiting."

"Really, England? Going so soon?" France protested.

"Shut it. Here's your money." England replied, handing France a bag of coins. "You ready to go America?"

"Yeah." Alfred didn't feel like hanging around France anymore. Sure, he seemed like a nice enough dude (if a bit flirty) but after seeing him with England…Alfred was ready to go.

"Ah, if that is the case, then so be it." France sighed. "But I shall wait for your return with a hopeful heart."

"Stop being so bloody dramatic." England replied. "Come on America, we better get going."

America nodded. "Yeah. See ya –uh—France."

"Hopeful we will meet again soon, no?" France said, giving a flirting smile.

"Let's go." England said, grabbing Alfred's arm and half-dragging him out of the store. Not that Alfred was really resisting.

They walked together towards the edge of the forest where they would meet Germany and Prussia in relative quiet. Alfred was resisting the urge to ask England exactly what he and France had been doing when he was gone. Why did he care so much?

Sure, it was a bit suspicious. France had sent him to the dressing room for little to no reason, and then he came back to find them in such a close position, and with England's face red like that…But it really wasn't any of his business. But he still wanted to know.

Alfred wasn't good at resisting things, and he eventually gave into the temptation. "So, Art-"

But he was cut off by England. "I apologize-" England stopped when he realized he had interrupted him. "Oh, I'm sorry. You go on."

"Uh…" Alfred lost all his courage then. None of it was really any of his business. "Nah, you go."

"Ah…I apologize for France's behavior." England said, looking a bit embarrassed. "He can be a bit...he's a lot to handle sometimes. Whatever he says to you I…uh, I just want you to know that he's not really serious."

"Yeah, I kinda figured that out on my own." Alfred laughed. "He's a bit of a flirt."

"And a pervert." England added, starting to look angry. "I swear- boys, girls, inanimate objects, he doesn't care! He'll bloody touch anything that moves."

Seeing England get angry over France helped a little to get rid of the uneasy feeling that had settled with him after seeing them together. But there was still a small voice in his head that said _'but you didn't move away_'.

Instead of saying that to England, he went with, "So how long have you known the guy? You two seem…uh, close. I guess."

England actually snorted. "That man has been a pain my arse for more than a year now. And if by close, you mean 'he won't stop invading my personal space' then yes, we're close. I went on _one_ date with him, in freshman year, and now he thinks he can do whatever the bloody hell he wants. Wanker."

…It took a few seconds for that information to sink in. England had gone on a date with France?

"Oh. So you're…" Alfred said, when England looked like he realized what he just said. "You know…"

There was a pause. "Gay." England finished for him, and Alfred felt embarrassed that he hadn't been able to say it himself. "Yes." England answered.

There was another pause, where Alfred could swear that he noticed England start to get a bit nervous. "That's cool. I don't have a problem with it or anything, if you're worried about that."

Alfred gave England a small smile, trying to look reassuring it. He wasn't faking the smile either, even though he did have a small problem (he wasn't really sure why) with England having gone on a date with France, the fact that England had told him made him happy.

He liked it when England trusted him, it made Alfred feel more…comfortable around him. Like they were becoming friends.

Alfred thought he saw a small blush on England's face before England turned away with a 'humph'. "Well," He said, "It's good to see at least some people in your country are tolerant."

"Hey!" Alfred protested. "What's that supposed to mean! Americans are plenty tolerant. We passed the San Francisco act!"

"That's a city."

"I know that." Alfred replied, "I'm not stupid. I'm talking about the whatcha-ma-call-it act we passed there."

"…I hope to heaven you are not referring to Proposition 8." England said dryly.

"Yeah! That's the one!"

England looked at him disbelievingly.

"…That was a good thing, right?"

Alfred promptly received a smack on the head.

After receiving a lecture on politics (and other things Alfred didn't usually pay attention to) from England, they arrived at the edge of the forest.

Germany, Prussia, and North and South Italy were waiting for them.

"Ve~ You're here!" North Italy said, hanging close to Germany's side.

"What the hell took you guys so long?" Prussia complained, looking bored. "Let's go already."

"We had to get America some armour." England responded, "We're ready to go when you are."

"Then we can go." Germany said.

Alfred thought he heard South Italy (at least he was pretty sure it was the southern one) mumble, "Good riddance."

South Italy walked away from the group, apparently waiting for his brother to leave with him.

The other Italy, however, stayed for a moment to talk to Germany.

"Come back soon, ve. And be careful!"

"I will. And don't dawdle with your brother. Go straight back to the restaurant." Germany replied and, after some prodding, leaned down to receive two kisses on each cheek.

Alfred elbowed England lightly, and whispered, "Are they…?"

"Completely oblivious." England responded.

That didn't really answer his question, but Alfred shrugged and let it go.

Once both the Italys began to walk away, Prussia let out an excited yell. "Alright! Let's get this show on the road."

Germany nodded. "England, are you ready with the tracking spell?"

"In a moment." England replied, taking out a vial of something (it looked like orange dirt to Alfred) and pouring it out into a circle around him.

"What, you get a power down or something?" Prussia asked, "Thought you were able to find the monster fine without that shit a day ago."

England didn't respond until he finished the circle, after which point he sighed. "I was only looking at what auras had come into the kitchen, not tracking one. And I won't be _able_ to do so if you don't stay quiet and let me work!"

Prussia gave a grumble, but nonetheless said nothing as Arthur began an incantation.

This wasn't the first time Alfred had seen England do magic, but it still didn't cease to amaze him.

As England chanted, a green glow began to appear around him. A wind that seemed to be conclusive to the circle wrapped itself around England, blowing his shaggy blond hair in several different directions.

Then, slowly, the invisible wind died down (blowing away the rest of whatever England had made the circle of) and the green glow faded away until England opened his eyes.

"I have its trail." England said.

"Good." Germany replied, "You should got to the front and lead us then."

England nodded and began to lead them into the forest. Alfred went to go walk besides him, but was stopped when an arm was wrapped around his shoulder.

"Got yourself some armor, huh?" Prussia said, his voice loud and friendly. "You visit France then?"

"Yeah. How'd you know?" Alfred asked.

"Not hard to figure out. France is pretty much the person to see if you want armor."

"Oh." Alfred said distractedly, glancing at England's back.

"But that armor's only gonna do part of the job in a fight. I understand that it's not possible to be as awesome as me and have a kickass sword like this." Prussia took his arm off Alfred's shoulder to show him the sword he had sheathed at his side. "But where the hell is your weapon?"

Alfred had to admit that the sword looked pretty cool, but…. "England says I shouldn't be allowed around sharp objects." Alfred smirked, thinking of their previous conversation at France's shop.

"Aww, England's got a huge stick up his ass!" Prussia complained, loudly.

"You know, just because I'm tracking a monster does not mean I can't hear you." England commented, not moving his eyes away from whatever 'trail' he was following. "America doesn't know how to use a sword. Or whatever skilled-based weapons Abaddon has to over. And if you _do your job_, then he won't need to."

"Hey, if it comes down to it, I can use my fists! You know, super strength and all." Alfred said. He was pretty sure he could handle himself, weapon or not. After all, he had been able to (sort-of) stand his ground when going up against that monster he and England had faced so long ago, and he hadn't even had all of his super strength then.

Prussia's reply was a wide and feral grin. "I like you!" He said, slapping Alfred on the back.

They continued walking together in a silence for a few more moments, heading deeper into the forest.

Alfred began to zone out a bit, looking at the area around him. It was strange. They were surrounded by different shades of green, like any other forest, but something was off. It took Alfred awhile to realize what it was.

The forest…it was almost like it was split into random areas. In some areas, the plants, the trees, the colors, everything was bright and vivid. But in others, he was reminded of the areas he had seen when he and England walked to China's. Like it was trying to imitate real life, but failing.

And whenever they passed the vivid areas, Alfred noticed his three companions tense. It was then that he remembered England mentioning fairies and other creatures being the ones to make Abaddon's scenery not look as fake.

So did England, Prussia, and Germany worry about being ambushed by fairies or something? The thought almost made Alfred snicker, but he managed to hold himself back.

It was when they were walking through one of those vivid areas when England stopped walking.

He paused for a moment before turning his head to Germany and Prussia and motioning for them to go ahead of them.

"It's close." England whispered to Alfred, now standing beside him. "It's somewhere off this path…We'll have to be careful now. We'll let Prussia and Germany handle this."

Alfred was slightly disappointed that England didn't want him to be up in front with Prussia and Germany, but he was glad that he could walk with England again. It wasn't that he didn't like Prussia (He didn't have much of an opinion on Germany as he hadn't really talked to him much in the walk), but…he just liked being with England better.

They walked together, not talking, and walked away from the dirt path. From how England and the others were walking, Alfred knew that the monster was nearby.

They continued walking deeper into the forest when England suddenly stopped.

"…England?" Alfred whispered, not wanting to speak too loud in case the monster was nearby.

England looked confused, his face crunched in concentration. It seemed as if his eyes were focusing on something, something far away, before he glanced back at Alfred.

"I…I don't understand." England said. Alfred wanted to ask him what he meant, but he was cut off by a rustling in the bushes.

"Alright! Time to rumble!" Prussia said, pulling out his sword and getting ready to battle. Germany silently followed.

"No. Wait-" England said, still looking a bit confused. But Germany and Prussia had no time to listen as the monster jumped out at them.

Germany and Prussia were on it immediately, fighting back with experience and strength.

Alfred was so pre-occupied by watching them fight that he almost didn't hear England calling him.

"America." Though Alfred couldn't be blamed too much for not hearing him, as England wasn't exactly yelling.

"America, we have to go." England said, his voice low and urgent.

"But Pr-"

"_Now._" England urged, grabbing Alfred's wrist and pulling him away.

Alfred hadn't known England long, but he knew him and trusted him enough to know that he should probably listen. He nodded quickly, and the two of them tried to exit the clearing. Germany and Prussia were professionals, Alfred thought, he was probably only getting in their way at the moment (even if he didn't like to think of himself that way).

They ran away from the fight, heading towards where they thought the dirt path was. They stopped when they reached into a clearing. England swore when he realized that they were going the wrong way.

"England, why are we running?" Alfred asked as England looked around desperately.

"Shit. Shit shit buggery shit-" England kept on swearing in response. He only stopped his rant to begin whispering a strange chant under his breath.

That was when Alfred heard it. A buzzing sound that was quickly coming closer and closer, till the noise filled up the whole clearing they were in.

Alfred barely had a second to figure where the noise was coming from when a dark mob of creatures burst into the clearing.

The creatures were a cross between bats and hornets, from what Alfred could see. They were moving so fast, twirling around each other in an aggressive pattern and heading right towards Alfred and England.

The monsters were seconds away from engulfing them in a black frenzy. Alfred only had enough time to step in front of England, in a quick attempt to protect him from the worst of it, and wait for the attack that was sure to come.

But there was no impact, as the wall of descending monsters crashed into an invisible wall just inches from Alfred's face.

England must have created a shield around them, just like the last time that they had faced a monster.

The bat-hornets flew into the shield again and again, apparently determined to get to them despite the invisible wall.

Unfortunately, just like the last time, the shield seemed to have less and less effect on the monsters. It would only be seconds until the shield was gone entirely.

At that moment the monsters would descend on them.

And it was becoming more and more likely that England's magic would have little effect on them.

Well, Alfred _had_ wanted to test out his new super strength. No time like the present after all. And if he could do it while protecting England, well, that was just a plus.

"Time to be a hero." Alfred whispered to himself.

He thought he heard an angry snort from England just as the shield broke down.

* * *

And that's it till next time! Which will be soon, I assure you. Already have some of the next chapter written, but I figured this would be a good place to stop. (You all know how much I love cliffhangers).

Next chapter will explain some things that I couldn't fit in here, like a bit of what happened in France's shop. Along with a few new characters! Actually, a lot of appearances now that I think about it. Plus, a bunch of reveals that I think will shed a bit of light on a lot of issues.

Till then, I want to thank all of you for being so patient with me. I hope you're still enjoying the story!


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